


Collide

by sailorchiron



Series: Fairytales [3]
Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fairy Tale, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-02-10
Updated: 2019-06-10
Packaged: 2019-10-25 11:56:23
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 43,620
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17724731
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sailorchiron/pseuds/sailorchiron
Summary: Get together story for Mickey and Emil.  Very, very fluffy.  If you're not reading The Misleading Nature of Unicorns, this won't make a lot of sense.





	1. In which Mickey is conflicted (big shocker)

Rus.

Mickey hated Rus.

It was beautiful in the summer, even though winter was hell. The palace was the most comfortable place they stayed when they traveled. Sara loved their suite, it was the only one in any of the places they’d ever been with two bathrooms with massive bathtubs, and the rooms were huge. The only bed more comfortable was the one in his own room at home. If you didn’t count dinners, food in the palace was second to none. Nevertheless, he hated it.

Why?

Because Sara flirted with absolutely _everyone_. And there was _no one_ who was immune to her flirting. She didn’t even realize she was flirting. Every man stared at her. Most of the women stared at her, too. He knew she was pretty, and charming, and unique, but gods-be-damned, she was putting herself in danger every five fucking seconds. They always stayed _weeks,_ and Sara was a social butterfly _the entire time,_ and he knew he’d be ready to crawl out of his skin with anxiety and annoyance long before she was ready to head for Suisse. Or did they call in Schweiz in Rus? Who fucking knew.

“Mickey, your horse would be dead by now if looks could kill.”

His head shot up, and he looked at Emil. He hadn’t even realized he’d stopped watching the road while he was brooding. “I just hate it here. It’s not my horse’s fault.” He patted her neck. “Sorry for glaring daggers at your ears, Juniper.”

“How can you hate Rus?” Sara exclaimed, outraged. “We have more fun here than anywhere!”

“No, _you_ have more fun here than anywhere else.” His look of annoyance must have been especially severe because Sara huffed and Emil laughed softly. “You bring enough dresses that you can dance every night for a month without a repeat. The only jobs you have are fireworks. That’s why you have fun.”

“Hmph.” Sara tapped her heels to her mare’s sides and trotted ahead of them. 

“Why do you hate it so much?” Emil asked. “I’ve been to Rus for work many times, it’s a nice country.”

“Because Sara attracts way too much attention to herself and there seem to be no defensible accommodations anywhere in the entire damned kingdom.” He glared at Emil’s chuckle. “It’s true.”

“It’s been peaceful for long enough that no one builds for defense.”

“That doesn’t keep bandits, thieves, rapists, or murderers out of you room at a sweet, cute little inn.”

Emil shook his head. “You know that Sara can actually defend herself, right? She can literally shoot lightning at people.”

“It’s my job to make sure she’s safe. And there are no inns or campsites on this entire road that are built for protecting someone.”

They lapsed back into silence while Mickey started brooding again. Like most people, Emil didn’t get how important Sara’s safety was to him. He came closer than anyone, though. They’d met over the winter on a skiing vacation in Schweiz, where Emil had been a caravan guard finishing an assignment and enjoying a few days in the cozy inn with plenty of pleasant company before returning to his home. Mickey had hated him instantly, since he walked into the common room to find Emil laughing and drinking with Sara, completely unsupervised and entirely too close for his taste. Sara didn’t understand that she had absolutely no judgement when it came to attractive men. None whatsoever. He’d barged in on their conversation like a charging bull only to discover that Emil and Sara were whispering together over men they both found attractive in the inn. He’d been borderline embarrassed, but mostly relieved. He didn’t think he could have handled Sara having a vacation fling. His nerves were already at a breaking point with her dragging him out of his short chance at peace at home to go skiing. Home was the only place he could relax, he knew no one could possible hurt Sara there. But here in Schweiz, it wasn’t really a vacation, it was more work, but with no pay. He was guarding Sara, and not really enjoying himself at all.

Emil, surprisingly, had changed that.

He’d demanded that Mickey get a drink and sit with them by the fire to pass judgement on the relative attractiveness of all the other patrons. That had sounded really fucking stupid, but after his third tankard of ale, it was possibly the funniest thing he’d done in his adult life. They progressed from just comparing notes to discussing the best ways to flirt, ask them to bed, or try to avoid them. The inn was packed, and more skiers were coming in all the time, and it was the most light-hearted activity Mickey had participated in in at least three years.

_Definitely more than three years._

The three of them had continued talking over dinner, and Mickey had slowly loosened up into the realization that Emil truly was not interested in Sara for anything but conversation. The next day, after dragging their hung-over carcasses out of bed, they’d all gone skating together. Mickey had thought he was a good skater, but Emil was amazing. He’d said it was because he lived next to a lake that froze solid every winter. 

By the end of the week, Mickey realized he had actually enjoyed himself for the first time in years, and wished he would be able to spend more time with the Czech knight. Emil was funny in a way that was refreshing. Not to say he was innocent or anything, he had a pretty colorful past for a man who was only 19, but he wasn’t crude or cruel. 

They’d all been talking by the fire about their inevitable returns to work, when Emil had mentioned that he was starting to get tired of the kind of work he could get: guarding caravans and escorting travelers. He was an extremely skilled swordsman, and a better archer than Mickey, but was young and untested, so didn’t have any offers to join large households or participate in quests. Sara had offered him the chance to travel with them before Mickey could come up with all of the dire scenarios he needed to share with her before he proposed letting Emil travel with them. Emil had enthusiastically agreed, and hugged Sara. Before Mickey could even start to protest, he’d released her to wrap his arms around him. 

All of the sounds of the inn had faded away. Time slowed down. It was the first welcome human contact he’d had in years. He hadn’t wanted it to end. When Emil had released him and the world had reasserted itself in his life, he wistfully hoped that Emil would hug him again before they parted ways for the rest of the winter. It was a really uncomfortable longing, and he’d tried to ignore it. That had been futile, and the day after when they’d said goodbye, the hug he’d gotten had been even better. He really hadn’t wanted to let go, and was out of sorts for three days trying to figure out why he’d wanted a hug so badly and why he wanted another one so much.

A bitter, rainy March had them meeting in Espana for their first job, and Mickey had been a nervous wreck (well, more than usual) thinking about Emil. He had no idea why he responded so strongly to the man, but decided it was because he hadn’t had a friend besides Sara in years. 

They’d had a lot of good times while traveling, and by the end of May Mickey had finally figured something out that should have been obvious a lot sooner.

Emil was _flirting_ with him. They had become very close friends, it was true, but Emil had definitely been flirting with him for at least a month, if not more. He felt like an idiot, but was pretty sure no one had ever flirted with him so subtly (and effectively) before. It wasn’t like he hadn’t had male lovers before, but he’d never felt so...liked, if that made any sense. 

And he had no idea what to do about it.

He had to admit to himself that he was attracted to him, with his scruffy dark blond (or was it light brown?) hair and big blue eyes. He even liked his beard. They’d seen each other in all manners of undress (camping did that) and could _definitely_ imagine enjoying Emil’s body. If it was just sex, that would be one thing. But…Emil was very quickly becoming his best friend. If he was flirting, he probably felt more than friendship, right?

Did he feel more than just friendship?

“Mickey, Juniper’s done for.”

“Gods, I’m sorry,” he apologized, looking at Emil again. “I didn’t even realize I’d zoned out again.”

“It’s been a long few days, you’re forgiven.” 

“Maybe I’ve been staring at the road for too long, my brain can’t handle any more. All we’ve done is ride for days.”

“It’s unfortunate that we haven’t had any emergencies along the way,” Emil teased. “No, I know what you mean. The last week has been boring as hell.”

“So boring. Come on, let’s catch up to Sara. Unless we somehow got lost on a straight road, there’s a small village on the other side of this wood that we should hit before sun down.”

The village was so quaint it was almost nauseating. Emil expressed delight, saying it was like his home village, if a little smaller. The houses were all painted with folk designs and the one inn was spilling light and laughter out into the town square, where extra tables had been set up for patrons to enjoy the long summer evening.

“This is a like a child’s toy village,” Emil commented. “It’s too perfect to be real.”

“The overwhelming cuteness makes my stomach turn, but I do have to admit that the inn makes a wild boar sausage that is second to none.”

“And a really nice cider,” Sara added. “They, in general, have really good food, and basically everyone turns out to see us. I always do a little magic show for them.”

“If you changed the paintings on the houses just a little in style, and added about 20 more houses, this is what my village looks like. Our innkeeper sees himself as a brewing artist, so we always have new beers to try. And the meat pies don’t have an equal in this world.”

The inn, being super small, only had three guest rooms, and one was taken. Unwilling to pull up a piece of floor in the common room to sleep by the fire, Mickey and Emil shared the second room (not uncommon). Mickey couldn’t decide if he was relieved or disappointed that they got the one with two beds.

“The common bathroom is across the hall,” Mickey explained, pointing out the door. “They put in plumbing two years ago. I can’t tell you how happy I am that I don’t have to bring buckets of water up the stairs for Sara to take a bath, and that I don’t have to go use the privy behind the building.”

Emil laughed. “Mickey, I’ve washed up in a horse trough so many times I can’t count. Just having a tub to put water in _inside the building_ is a luxury.”

Mickey smiled ruefully. “I’ve gotten spoiled. I’ve had my share of horse-trough baths.”

Dinner was great, served in the late sunlight with the village musicians accompanying their meal with traditional songs. Sara’s Russian was the best, since she used magic to learn the language, and she was chatting with the serving girl (the innkeeper’s niece) when the sun dipped behind the trees. Rather than lighting lanterns and torches to keep socializing like normal, the people scurried off, as if they were afraid of the dark. Curious, Sara asked Sophia what on earth was happening, and she looked uneasy as she explained, then hurried back into the inn.

“What’s going on?” Mickey knew had the angry/concerned face that annoyed Sara so much, but couldn’t help it.

“She said there’s something haunting them. At night, anyone who’s outside gets overcome by terror and cold before they’re covered by a dark shadow. Most of the people survive, and wake up in the morning where they passed out from fear, but two of the elderly villagers seem to have died of fright, and the entire town is indoors before the sun goes down now.”

“I hate ghosts.” 

“So do I,” Emil agreed. “Have you heard of this kind of haunting before?”

Sara nodded. “It sounds like a revenant. I’m 99% sure some young villager has been playing pretend magic games without realizing he or she has gifts. I’ll do some research tomorrow, and tomorrow night go looking for it.”

“Not by yourself, you’re not.”

It was too dim in the square to see if Sara was rolling her eyes, but Emil was sure she was rolling her eyes. “Of course, Mickey. I didn’t plan on going alone.”

“I’m glad it seems straight-forward.” Emil stretched. “I’m going to take a bath before Sara can soak for three hours.”

“Shut up or I won’t heat the bathwater for you.”

“Okay, then I call second bath,” Mickey announced as they headed indoors.

“Just share mine,” Emil teased with a wink. Mickey knew he looked uncomfortable and was probably blushing, even though it had been a long-running joke with them. Possibly because he wanted to share a bath with Emil something awful.

“Hah,” Sara barked. “When you see the size of the tub, you’ll know why that’s not an option.”

The tub was…cozy. “Not much room for soaking.”

Sara laughed as she held her hand over the water, waiting for steam to start rising from the surface. “Nope, strictly a ‘get clean, get out’ kind of tub. Even if you could convince Mickey to take a bath with you, it wouldn’t work.”

“Someday I’ll convince Mickey to take a bath with me that’s _not_ washing up in an ice-cold stream.”

“Well, the tubs in our suite in Rus are pretty big. Prince Christophe of Suisse has what is officially the most opulent suite, and it’s right upstairs from Prince Victor, but our suite is actually better, it’s just not in the royal wing.”

“Sara, teasing aside, would it be alright with you--”

“Yes, please, by all means, seduce my brother. He’s bi, he’s been with men, he has trust issues that need a little special handling, but he’s clearly attracted to you and I know for a fact that he’s lonely and needs someone besides me. Yes, yes, yes.”

Emil laughed. “Thank you for your blessings.”

“Just don’t break his heart, or I’ll turn you into a toad.” Sara dipped her finger in the water. “Bathwater is ready.”

Emil kissed her cheek. “Thank you, _laska.”_

Emil _wanted_ to stew in the hot water and think, but that really wasn’t an option. Instead he washed the road dust and horse off of his skin and out of his hair, and thought about Mickey while he did it. He was so attracted to him, physically of course, but emotionally, too. He was the kind of person who hid his need for affection behind anger, and his deep loneliness behind an attitude that was dismissive of people and things that evoked softer emotions. Mickey tried really hard to be completely devoid of emotion, and usually failed, even when anger wasn’t the emotion he was displaying. He had moments of playfulness and good humor, times when he was kind, and in the dark of night once, he’d admitted that he was scared of losing Sara and it being his own fault. He hid his complicated personality behind a stony face and blustered his way through interpersonal situations because he was afraid to show any kind of vulnerability. _I can’t resist it, the puzzle that is Michele Crispino. He’s the damsel in distress that I’ve chosen to rescue, but the dragon is his own mind._

He took a few moments to shave and trim his beard, since the light was surprisingly good in the bathroom, before deciding to be devious and wander into his and Mickey’s shared room in just a towel. He’d been fairly sure that Mickey was attracted to him, but now that he had confirmation…

“Bathtub is all yours, Mickey.” 

Mickey looked up from where he was cleaning his sword (it helped him calm down to take care of his weapons) and was immediately both sorry and not sorry. Emil was tall, taller than him, with very fair skin. He didn’t have much hair on his body, and had abs that were so defined you could use them as a washboard. The perfection of his chest was only marred by a serious scar going across his ribs on the right side, where he’d, amusingly enough, gotten on the wrong side of a goat. Drops of water were still clinging to his skin, and his damp hair was wild from being toweled dry. Realizing he’d been staring for a while, Mickey wrenched his eyes away from those defined pecs and choked out, “Thanks.” He suddenly realized that Emil would most likely _remove_ his towel to dress for bed, and as much as he wanted to witness that, he _did not_ want to witness that. _My entire life is one big conflict between what I want and what I can’t have._ He hurried to grab his toiletries and head into the bathroom. He was rushing so much to avoid seeing Emil naked (which he actually really wanted to do) that he forgot to get Sara for the water until he was almost undressed, and had to redress himself to go knock on her door. He knew he looked like a hot mess, since he was flustered and embarrassed and annoyed, but didn’t say anything.

 _One thing that never gets old is hot water to sit in after being on a horse all day._ Everyone had their vices. His was soaking in hot water. He was determined to visit the hot springs in Suisse (Schweiz?) this year, hopefully more than once. Especially over the winter. _Maybe Emil would like to go._

_Then you’d absolutely see him naked._

They’d basically seen each other naked when they were trying to wash up in rivers and streams, but it was different, somehow, when it wasn’t enforced nudity to get clean in nature. Camping was a necessary part of being a wandering team, even now that they had the money to stay in nice inns when they were in towns, and famous enough that they were hosted by nobility and royalty. Sara was also a guest lecturer at several mage schools and universities, so people who wanted her help had regular opportunities to find her, or at least leave her a message. As much as Mickey loved roaming the world (and he really loved it, most of the time), he hoped the day would come that Sara was ready to settle down before they were too old to enjoy being settled down. _By 40, definitely by then. I’m going to go with 35. Okay, somewhere in between._ They’d talked, idly, about having a school for both magic and weaponry. It could really be anywhere, as famous as they were, by the time they were ready to retire, people all over would be begging them to take their children as students.

_I wonder…no. Don’t even think about Emil retiring with you._

It was a wonderful fantasy, though. Waking up together on frosty mornings for coffee before beating physical fitness into children. Walks in the woods together. Stargazing on summer nights. Just...time with him, being close to him. Feeling those strong arms around him at night. 

_He thinks he wants me, he’s flirting with me. But I’m so damaged. I can admit that to myself, even if I can’t admit it to anyone else._

Mickey started when Sara banged on the door. “Michele Crispino, you’ve been in there for almost an hour, if you’re not out of there in five minutes I’m going to assume you’re dead and haul your carcass out of the tub so I can bathe.”

Emil was already tucked into bed when he went into the room, but smiled at him. “Get lost in thought?”

“Something like that. More like I zoned out and forgot what I was doing.”

“You must really need sleep.” Emil waited while Mickey climbed into his own narrow, lumpy bed. “Our next stop will be the capital, right?”

“There’s another town about a day from here, then about six hours to the palace. This close to the capital, there aren’t usually any jobs requiring our intervention. That’s what makes this one surprising.”

“I hate ghosts. I really, really, hate ghosts.”

“So do I. Sara doesn’t really seem bothered by them. She’s tried to explain all of the different types of ghosty things to me and what they can do and my opinion is just ‘nope’ to all of them.”

Emil chuckled. “Same. My grandmother could talk to spirits, and was sad that none of us inherited her abilities. I’m not sad _at all.”_ He shifted around. “What can I expect from staying in the capital?”

Mickey was happy to talk, he felt very close to Emil in the dark of their tiny room. “The city is great, there are tons of things to do. There’s a tavern that I like that caters mostly to knights and guards, and has really good music and food. In the summer there are usually musicians and dancing in every square.”

“Sounds lively.”

“It is. The palace is huge, and really over-the-top opulent. Our suite is really nice, and the beds are significantly better than any we’ve had since March.”

Emil laughed softly. “I should hope so. You’re friends with the Crown Prince, right?”

“Victor. He’ll love you, and ask you not to use the honorific right off the bat. The Prince of Schweiz will also be there, Christophe. He’ll ask you to call him Chris. They’re about as gay as it gets.” He waited while Emil laughed. “They’re both great. They share a love of clothes with my sister.”

“Sara doesn’t have that much with her.”

“Hah. Silk packs down very small. Everything on the back of her pack horse is a dress.” 

“We haven’t really needed much finery on this trip, I hope what I have is good enough.”

“If it’s not, there are probably hundreds of places to get new clothes and have them tailored. But I’ve been guilty of having Sara put an illusion on me so I could make the same two tunics last a week without repeats.”

“That’s funny,” Emil laughed. “And a really good idea. But I probably will need to get more clothes if we’re going to stay at court for weeks.”

“Easy enough. I’d offer you some of the wardrobe that I just leave in Rus but you’re too tall.”

“No, you’re too short.”

“Shut up. I’m not that short. I can reach the top shelf in the liquor cabinet, that’s all that matters.”

Emil cracked up, and that made Mickey smile. _I love it when I can make him laugh._

“My oldest brother actually _is_ really short. He’s only an inch or two taller than Sara. Even my little sister is taller than he is.”

“Gods, I don’t want to laugh at his misfortune, but that sucks.”

“My mom is really short, he’s the only one in the family that takes after her. But he’s a healer, so he gets respect anyway. Well, from everyone except us.”

Mickey found himself chuckling. “Boys used to tease Sara for being tiny when we were kids, and I tried beat them all up. They thought it was funny until I learned how to use a weapon.”

“I can picture this.”

“And then Sara’s gifts started to develop, and she learned that she could make them get sick or fall down if she tried. That was hilarious until our mom caught onto what she was doing and put a stop to it.”

“Oh gods, that’s terrible and funny at the same time. She did threaten to turn me into a toad earlier.”

“She used to threaten other kids like that. She told me that she can’t actually turn people into toads though.”

“What a relief,” Emil laughed. _Not that I have any intention of breaking Mickey’s heart. That’s the last thing I ever want to do._

“One of the meanest things she ever did was to our cousin Augustine, who when we were kids was a disgusting bag of snot and lard with the personality of a rabid weasel. Sara would make his silver wear get super hot right before he went to touch it to start shoveling food into his mouth. Then she’d make his food get cold really fast. She didn’t care if she got to eat or not as long as she could torment him. Considering that his favorite thing to do was break her dolls and toy horses, he kind of deserved it.”

Emil was wheezing from the description. “How is cousin Augustine now?” He wiped his eyes on the sheet.

Mickey started laughing, Emil’s laughter was contagious. “Actually, fairly decent, his father sent him off to a strict school to keep my aunt from spoiling him so much, and he grew up to be a normal human being. He also got over being a bag of snot and lard.”

Just then, there was a knock at the door. “Could you two kindly shut the hell up so I can sleep?”

“Fine.” It had been a while since his sister had complained that his sleepover was too noisy.

“Sorry!” 

“We should sleep. There’s no chance of sleeping in at this place, they rouse the whole house at dawn.”

“Oh wonderful. In that case, goodnight.”

“Night.”

Mickey watched as Emil turned over on his side to face away from him, toward the window where the moon was sending in a trickle of illumination. He loved making Emil laugh. Not that he didn’t laugh a lot anyway, he was a really jovial person, but Mickey liked it when it was because of _him. Just admit it to yourself, Crispino. You think about retiring with him. You’re falling in love with him._ But Emil was _so young._ There was no way he was looking for forever. _I wasn’t looking for forever either. But I could never keep it casual with him. I need him too much._ And he did. Their friendship was an emotional support he hadn’t known he could have. _I can’t lose that to a fling with a teenager. Once again, my life being a constant conflict of what I want and what I can’t have._

When he knew no one could see, he reached out toward the other man. The room was so small he could almost touch him. 

Almost.


	2. In which Emil is obsessed with a certain Italian

As Emil dropped his pack onto the crazy huge bed in his room, he looked around, unable to take everything in. Mickey hadn’t exaggerated about the opulence of the palace. Beautiful tapestries softened the white-plastered walls. The posts of the bed were carved with vines and leaves. The duvet was deep gold and embroidered with a pattern of stylized roses in blue and purple, and brightly-colored decorative pillows were piled deep against the carved headboard. There was a wardrobe that was just as beautiful, and a book case with small statues, vases, and carvings. The floor was polished dark wood, and a soft rug of dark red with a border of traditional Russian designs covered the center of the room. It was insane.

Mickey had already told him the room decorated with blue was his, and the rose one (the former master bedroom) was Sara’s. The suite was intended for a family, and had housed the twins as well as their parents and assorted servants when they’d all traveled together. Between his and Mickey’s rooms was a bathroom that was almost as beautiful as the rooms, and the tub looked at least big enough for two. He smirked.

He’d already been warned by Mickey and Sara that dinner would be horrible, but the first night he wouldn’t be allowed to go. Tomorrow, he’d be introduced at audiences by the ambassador of Italia that lived in Rus full time. The same woman, who he’d met when he arrived, had promised him a tour of the palace and grounds after he shared dinner with her and her family. For now, there was a tray of tea and sandwiches in the sitting room, a tub that was promising an actual soak, and clean summer clothes waiting for him. 

After a cup of tea and more than a few of the dainty sandwiches, Emil found himself up to his neck in hot water and bubbles. There’d been four different scents of bubble bath and six different soaps. The soft cloths he’d found for washing with were so plush he felt like a princess. He found bottles of shampoos and conditioners for his hair, which he only recognized because of Sara, and couldn’t wait to see how his ordinarily fluffy hair looked after all of the special treatment. He had a pleasant fantasy of Mickey washing his hair, and returning the favor. Feeling the other man resting against his chest. Gods, he wanted it. He wanted him. _I’m so attached to him. I just want to be with him all the time. When he smiles at me, I’m almost giddy._ He was pretty sure that he was going to miss Mickey in the two days they’d be separated. It was completely ridiculous, but he didn’t care. He was in love and enjoying the experience. He didn’t know what the future held for him, but he hoped it included Michele Crispino. _I can’t wait to ask him to dance. Hell, I can’t wait to give him a hug when he gets here._ He smiled thinking about dancing. He was a good dancer, and knew Mickey was too. 

At some time while he was washing off even the memory of horse, a servant had unpacked his battered luggage and taken his dirty laundry, leaving a pair of loose trousers and one of his light cotton shirts, mysteriously wrinkle-free, on the bed. His town shoes were polished and waiting on the rug. A peek in the wardrobe showed his one nice tunic and one nice pair of pants. “I really need to go shopping.”

Dressed, and curious about the rest of the suite, Emil looked into the other rooms. There were three small rooms, clearly for servants, which were currently being used for storage. Unable to contain himself, he cracked open a trunk, and found that it was full of down comforters. Another was full of bright silks, probably dresses. A third was full of what might be curtains. Each trunk gave him a little zap, and made a tiny buzz when he closed it. Spells preserving the contents.

Outside the sitting room windows was a small garden, with every flower in full bloom. There were marble statues in among the trees and flower beds, but from here he couldn’t see any details. Humming birds were buzzing around a ceramic bowl hanging from an ornamental shepherd’s crook. It reminded him a little of the garden at his parents’ home, his mother had a true gift with plants. 

Sara’s bathroom was so insanely opulent that Emil was almost uncomfortable in it. And so obscenely pink that he didn’t know how Mickey’s father had been able to stand it. Then again, their dad was pretty wacky, maybe he was into pink. Who knew.

The sitting room was very pretty, colorful and comfortable. He thought about cuddling with Mickey on the deep, plush sofa, maybe on a chilly, rainy evening. That vision required a dog. “Maybe when we retire, we can have dogs.” He certainly hoped he could retire with Mickey. Sara had mentioned that she and Mickey wanted to have a school for young mages and warriors, and he thought that was a great idea. Hopefully, it could include a Czech knight that really liked Italian men. And dogs.

A knock at the door brought Emil out of his hopeful reverie, and he answered it to find the Italian ambassador, Isabella Fiorenzo, waiting for him. She was a beautiful, statuesque woman with dramatic silver streaks in her black hair and striking light green eyes. “Emil! I see you’re presentable for polite company, do come! I could have sent a servant for you, but that seems so impersonal for someone who is such a good friend to my Sara and Michele.”

“I hope I’m dressed well enough,” he replied, slightly nervous considering the richness of her embroidered silk gown. 

“For a casual dinner on a summer evening, you’re just fine. I’m still dressed from court, don’t think anything of it. My husband and sons will be dressed much the same.”

“Oh good. I don’t have much else to wear, I’m afraid.” He thought about his lonely tunic and pants. “Sara said she wanted to spend a month here, and I seriously only have one nice outfit.”

She looked over her shoulder from where she was just ahead of him in the hall. “Then we’ll go shopping tomorrow. My husband’s tailor has a very nice store and can get things fitted for you within a day or two.” She stopped to look him over. “You’re a nice, normal size, there shouldn’t be any problem.”

Emil laughed. “Finally, a way I’m normal. My sister will be so relieved to know it.”

Isabella laughed along. “How old is your sister?”

“She’s 15. I have two older brothers, and a younger brother and sister. I’m the problem middle child.”

“You can’t be too much of a problem if you’re a knight, it takes skill, honor, and intelligence to be able to make those vows.”

“Considering that I’m not living at home, producing grandchildren, and working the family farm, I’m a pretty big problem.” Emil grinned when she laughed. “I have reasonably supportive parents, but I don’t think they get me.”

“Every child says that about his parents. Here we are.” Isabella opened the door to an open and airy suite. “This section of the palace is the newest, and so much less cramped than the older parts. I’ve made this a little slice of Italia.”

“It really is. I’ve been to Italia several times, this is beautiful.” The walls had been painted to look more like the plasterwork that was popular in the villas in the southwest of the country, and gauzy drapes hung at the windows rather than the heavier brocades that were in his room. The furniture was imported, and looked both dainty and inviting. Isabella’s husband stood from the sofa when they entered.

“You must be the knight that’s been with the twins! I’m Ricardo, nice to meet you.”

Emil shook his hand. “Nice to meet you as well.”

“You’ll have to tell us all about your adventures with Sara and Michele. His father and I are close friends, he always counts on my reports on them when they visit Rus.”

“Of course.”

Dinner with Isabella and Ricardo, as well as their two sons, was pleasant. They were interested in where they’d traveled so far this season, where he was from, what Mickey and Sara were doing right now, how long he’d been making a living with his sword and if he’d considered joining the dubiously-respectable paid army companies that were popular in Deutschland (he had not). They told him about Rus, and the atmosphere of the palace, and especially to never draw attention to himself at dinner. “Let Sara be the focal point, you don’t want the King to notice you. He still has a soft spot for Sara from when she was an adorable child, but is less kind to Mickey or any of the friends they’ve had over the years.”

After dinner, the family showed him around the palace and gardens, which were absolutely _massive._ Marco, Isabella’s oldest son, told him were all the best spots to not be seen were located. “Don’t even try to use a gardener’s shed, they go first. There’s a fountain with stone benches over there--” he’d pointed in the direction of a path marked by two statues of leaping deer, “—where no one goes because the benches are uncomfortable. If you’re looking for privacy, that’s a good bet.”

“Um, thanks?” He could only assume that the teenager was talking about illicit liaisons. _It’s hard to believe he’s only two years younger than I am._ Marco was 17, but seemed _so young. Maybe it’s because I’ve been living on my own since I was 16 and he’s still being cared for by wealthy, indulgent parents._

As the sun dropped in the sky, lights began to glow in amongst the plants and flowers. “The late Queen turned these gardens into a fairy land at night. It’s absolutely lovely, everyone spends time in the gardens during evening court. Do you dance?”

“Yes, but I might need to learn the local dances.” _I can’t wait to dance with Mickey._

“Oh perfect! We have dancing most nights after dinner. Sara is always the queen of the dance floor.”

“Is she ever _not_ the center of attention?” 

“Not really, no. She’s been that way since birth.”

“I’m really not surprised.” Emil smiled. “I’ve loved traveling with them. Mickey has become my closest friend.” 

“He needs a friend. He’s always been a little standoffish with others, but in the last few years, something has happened.” Isabella shook her head. “I’m glad he’s found a friend in you.”

Later that night, Emil was trying to get comfortable in the overly-large bed with cool air flowing in from the open window and the scent of flowers on the breeze. He couldn’t help but think of how much he’d like to share this bed with Mickey. _I just want to put my arms around him and tell him I love him._ Of course, he’d like to hear those words, too. _I know he’s attracted to me, and we’re such good friends, I feel like it could tip over into a romance with just the tiniest nudge. I don’t know what’s holding him back from approaching me._ He knew, instinctively, that he needed to let Mickey make the first move, emotionally if not physically. _Mickey has to let me know he’s letting me in, or I won’t try to push for more. Even if I want to kiss him senseless. I’d rather just stay friends than scare him away._ But he was definitely going to let him know, for sure, that he was interested. _Maybe I’ve been too subtle?_

It was a puzzle, but a wonderful puzzle. But the long day caught up with him, and between one breath and the next, Emil was asleep.

***  
The following day, Ricardo took Emil to acquire some nicer clothes and to a lively lunch spot known for Italian food and wine. “It’s the closest thing to home I can get,” he’d explained. “I can’t tell you nice it is to drink _real_ wine once in a while.”

Audiences were in the afternoon, and Emil learned a new level of boredom. He got his first look at the famous Prince Victor, and the stories of his looks were _not_ exaggerated. He was beautiful. Not Emil’s type (too pale) but very pretty. How he wasn’t dying of boredom, he didn’t know. There was a huge queue of people wanting to talk to him, and more than once, the conversation turned to very petulant argument. His face remained pleasantly neutral the entire time. Amazing.

It was close to the end of the session, 4:00, when he was finally presented to the silver-haired man. Isabella introduced him briefly, explaining that she was sponsoring him at court, but that he was truly Sara and Mickey’s companion. A genuine smile graced his features, and he was even more good-looking. Prince Victor welcomed him to court, and they moved on. 

“Well, you’re invited to dinner with he court now, and can explore the palace and grounds freely. The dining room is just there--” Isabella pointed down an opulent hallway, “and the court gathers at about 5:45 to find their tables. If you’d like to join us, you’re welcome to.” She leaned closer. “You can also join us for a decent meal after dinner.”

Emil laughed softly. “Thank you. Should I change for dinner?”

Isabella nodded. “Wear the tunic and trousers you showed me this morning, you’ll look fine. Do you think you can find your way back here from your room?”

If it was once thing Emil had, it was a good sense of direction. He’d already made a mental map of the palace. “No problem at all. 5:45?”

“Until then.” 

Back in the suite, Emil discovered that his nice clothes were ironed and laid out on the bed, and had obviously been laundered this morning, since they smelled like different soap than what he’d used, eh, like a month ago in a good-sized town. He decided to wash up before donning the fresh clothes. It wasn’t all that hot, but he’d gotten sweaty in the sunny trip to the city and the god-awful stuffy audience chamber. He eyed himself critically in the mirror, and decided his beard didn’t need any attention. His good tunic was grey with a darker grey Czech traditional pattern embroidered on the placket by his aunt. If his mother had a gift for plants, his aunt had a gift for embroidery, and it was beautiful. 

His thoughts strayed toward Mickey while he was dressing. He was right, he missed him, even though it was silly. _It’s going to be hard to keep from throwing my arms around him and kissing him when he gets here._

Emil met Isabella and her family by the doors of the dining room. “Remember, try not to draw attention to yourself.”

“Don’t stare when you go in there,” Marco instructed. “It’s gaudy and you’re going to want to stare, but don’t.”

“Got it.”

The dining room was enormous, and gaudy didn’t even begin to describe it. The Prince was there at the high table, with a dark-haired man to his right, and who Isabella mentioned were his cousins and Prince Christophe further down the table. “No one knows who the young man that is with Victor is, and it’s driving the entire court mad with speculation.”

Dinner was…terrible.

“Most nights after dinner, there are entertainments in the ballroom that all include food. Or if you’re not interested in mingling, there are private dinners to be had all over the palace.”

He was happy to sit down to an actually edible meal a little later. He stayed with the Fiorenzo family for the evening, playing cards and laughing. Antonio, the younger son, was trying to teach him words in both Italian and Russian, and Emil has zero confidence that he was getting the actual definitions of those words.

Bed had him thinking about getting to see Mickey the next day. _I can’t help it, I’m so excited. I just want to wrap my arms around him and make him smile. I love him so much._ It was kind of amazing how hard he’d fallen for Mickey since January. He’d been trying to get him into bed the entire time they’d been at the inn over the winter and it had been like flirting with a brick wall. He’d started to wonder if he was wrong about Mickey’s sexuality until his reaction to their first hug. And then the way he’d basically clutched him when he was saying goodbye to him. And then how much of a wreck he was when they saw each other again, and how happy he was to get a hug. He would have to have been made of stone not to react affectionately to someone who was so desperate for physical contact. In the time they’d been together, he’d made efforts to touch Mickey sometime every day, and he always responded so happily. _Gods, how could I not love him? He’s adorable. And gorgeous._ He’d done everything even remotely possible to get the other man undressed in the last six months, and he _still_ hadn’t caught on that he was flirting. He’d done everything remotely possible to get Mickey to look at _him_ undressed in the last six months, and he hadn’t figured out that he was flirting with him, not even when he’d had Mickey look at a cut on his upper thigh that needed absolutely no attention. _He’s so oblivious. What a dork._ Emil just hoped that Mickey could be _his_ dork someday.


	3. In which Mickey is still conflicted

“I’m so glad we’ll be somewhere with a real bathtub by this afternoon,” Sara complained. “My hair needs more attention than what passed for a bath last night.”

“You could cut it off.”

“Yeah, no.” Sara stuck her tongue out at her brother, who laughed. “I’m far too vain to have short hair.”

“At least you can admit it.”

“I do get jealous of Mila’s hair when it’s this hot outside, though. So much cooler.”

They were both wearing light shirts with their riding leathers, and vests instead of full tunics. Their arms would be less protected in a fight, but it was really warm. And fights didn’t generally happen on this stretch of the road. Although, once Mickey had seriously lost his temper with a herd of cows blocking the path.

“I’m looking forward to a real bath, too. And a chance to shave properly.” He hated being scruffy, but chances to really take care of his face were rare. 

“I don’t know, Emil likes you with stubble,” Sara teased.

“How do you know that?” Mickey was pretty sure he was turning beet red.

“Hmm, he might have mentioned it to me.” 

Emil had, in fact, told Mickey that it made him look more rugged, but he didn’t know if that was a compliment or not. “When did you have _that_ conversation?”

“Oh, maybe in January.”

It was true, he hadn’t shaved when he was in Suisse last winter. Sometimes he had the delusional idea that he wanted to grow a beard, and it absolutely never lasted. “When? We were together most of the time we were there!”

“Not every second.” Sara grinned at the look on her brother’s face. “Aw, Mickey, are you blushing?”

“Shut up.”

“You are!” She laughed at his scowl. “He obviously likes you for some reason, and finds you attractive, why don’t you do something about it?” 

“Are you just assuming I want to do something about it?” _Gods, I want to do something about it._

“You know you do. I’ve seen the way you look at him.” 

It was true, when he wasn’t thinking about it, he was sure his face showed how much he wanted Emil, and how much he liked him. _Loved him._ And every time the man touched him it was probably obvious how desperate he was. “It’s complicated.” 

“How is it complicated?” _Just have sex with him, damn it._

Mickey sighed. He couldn’t even get mad at Sara for goading him. “It just is.” 

Sara tipped her head to the side, concern marring her pretty face. _I can’t believe he’s not making a huge, amusing fight out of this._ “Can you tell me?” They really told each other everything. They’d told each other before anyone else about first kisses and lost virginities. 

_Deep breath. Don’t cry._ “He’s so young, Sara. He’s not going to stay traveling with us forever, he has more to do with his life. I know he’s flirting with me, but I just _can’t._ No matter how much I want to.” _Don’t cry._ Gods, he was hopeless. “I care about him too much to just fuck around for a while then say goodbye.” _Don’t cry. Don’t cry._

 _Is he in love with him? Oh, damn._ “Oh, Mickey.” She tugged on Laurel’s reins to bring their horses close enough to each other that she could put her hand on his arm. “How do you know he’s going to say goodbye? He’s pretty happy with us. And we’ve been doing this since we were 17, and haven’t decided to go do something else.” She squeezed a little. “He cares about you, Mickey. He really does. I think _you_ are a lot of the reason Emil wanted to travel with us in the first place.”

“I don’t know. I just, I know I can’t do something short term with him. And that’s probably all it could be. I can’t do that to myself.” His mantra of ‘don’t cry’ was not working. “Fuck.” He scrubbed at his face. “I saw what it did to you to walk away from Georg. And Emil is the best friend I’ve ever had. It would be so hard.” He pulled back on Juniper’s reins so she’d stop. “You don’t know how much I want to kiss him hello when we get to the palace. I started missing him the minute he rode away.” Tears were rolling down his face now. “Fuck. I hate crying.”

“Oh, Mickey!” Sara could feel Mickey’s pain as well as if was her own. She joked about their ‘magical twin powers’ but they actually _did_ have magical twin powers. “How do you know it would be short term? How do you know he doesn’t love you?” 

“I don’t know, I can’t think about it. Damn it, I need something to wipe my nose.”

Sara pulled a pocket handkerchief from her belt pouch. “Here.” 

“Why is it flowered?”

“Because it’s mine? Mickey, why are you torturing yourself, just kiss him.”

“Gods, I want to. But if, I--” the tears started again, “If I fall in love with him, it’s going to be worse when he leaves.” _Gods, I’m already in love with him. Why do I even try to lie to myself?_

“You’re convinced that he’s going to leave, but Mickey, what if he wants to stay with us because he loves _you?”_

“Then I’d be holding him back. I can’t do that.” 

Sympathy warred with frustration within Sara. Mickey was talking himself out of being happy because he was so afraid that something _might_ go wrong. “Sometimes being happy for a while is worth it. I don’t regret my relationship with Georg, even though it couldn’t last. I think I’d regret it if I _hadn’t_ taken the chance on loving him.” _Emil probably does love him. He’s so nice, and he puts up with Mickey, he’d have to love him._

Mickey tried so hard to silence the part of his brain that was agreeing with Sara that he thought he might have a stroke. “Please stop. I just can’t deal with this right now. I don’t want to look like I was crying when we get to the palace.”

Sara squeezed his arm again. “Alright. But think about it, okay? Let yourself be happy.” _And think about something besides stalking my every move._

Nodding, Mickey offered Sara her hanky, which she raised an eyebrow over. “You really think I want to touch that?”

“Thought I’d offer.” He tapped Juniper’s sides to keep moving. “I will be happy to see the bathtub, that’s for sure.” 

“And Emil?” 

Mickey heard the teasing in Sara’s voice, keeping it light. “Yes.” He couldn’t help by smile, even though he was still crying a little. “I can’t help but be happy to see him.” _I know he’ll hug me. I love his hugs._

It was another two hours to the capital, and Sara did her best to keep Mickey from obsessing, which would probably make him cry again. Mickey _never_ cried. _He’s got to be in love with Emil to be this upset and confused._ She distracted him by making nebulous plans for the school they wanted to have when they retired. 

“Do you think we should have, like, multiple teachers? Not just us, I mean.” 

Mickey looked at her, considering. “I think so, but only people we know are really good. Like, if there were going to be other weapons teachers, it would have to be someone like Mila or Emil.” 

“I bet Mila would love to teach swordwork. And Emil is a crazy good archer.”

“He really is, he puts me to shame.” He felt a little confused thrill over retiring with Emil. “Are there other mages you’d want to work with you?”

“Not right now, it would have be someone I work with personally and trust. Preferably someone who has skills in things I’m weak on. They wouldn’t even have to be super powerful if they were really skilled in things I suck at.”

“Teaching isn’t really about power, it’s about skill,” Mickey agreed. “We should teach kids to dance and skate, too.”

Sara laughed. “Why?”

“Works the same muscles groups as footwork, but requires even more grace and detail. It carries over really well. Plus, I figure most of our students will be noble, so they basically need to know how to dance.”

“That makes sense.”

“Chopping wood is good for building upper body strength, so we get free labor.”

Sara laughed. “You’ve put a lot of thought into this.”

Mickey shrugged. “I started thinking about the things that worked for me, and what I wish I’d known. Learning to duel was easier because I learned to dance first. Learning to actually fight sucked because I didn’t have any real muscle when I started. Being a pampered rich kid hurt me in that respect.”

“Huh. I hadn’t thought about that.”

“What do you wish you’d known before you started your magic training?”

“That I’d have to eat even when I wasn’t hungry. Being a pampered rich kid, I was used to people just putting food in front of me and then cajoling me into eating. When I had to get my own food, I just didn’t. I lost so much weight that I was borderline dying and kept passing out.”

“So we need to make sure the kids know that.”

“I also took it for granted that I could borrow magic from outside of myself. That is not a skill that comes naturally. It takes years of practice, and still, not everyone can do it. I was very impatient with my peers because of it, and got in a lot of trouble because I could do big things but couldn’t control them.”

“Interesting.” Mickey thought for a while. “What do you suck at?”

“Nothing.”

“Uh huh.”

Sara chuckled. “I cannot make potions to save my life, or anyone else’s life for that matter. I just can’t transfer the enchantment into the decoction. I also get bored as hell in the still room grinding and measuring.”

“Explains why you buy potions.”

“It’s time consuming to make them, and I hate it, so it’s easier to just buy them. I can’t convince rocks or crystals to become lights. I just can’t. That doesn’t even take a lot of power, just concentration and understanding that there is energy in a crystalline structure. I can’t do it.”

“Huh. I didn’t even realize that was a thing.”

“They’re much safer to have around than candles, they don’t give off any heat. Most of the time you can only convince them to be blue, but I had a teacher who could make entire chandeliers in a rainbow of colors that were entirely self-sustaining. That’s what makes all the colored lights in the gardens at the palace.”

“Huh.”

“I have zero ability to see the future. Some people can do that naturally, some mages can cast seeing spells with the right items. I can’t do it at all. And I’m not a healer. Like with seeing the future, some people are natural healers, and some mages can use healing spells. About the best I can do is make the injury numb and put you to sleep.”

“That’s useful, too. I’ll never complain about that.”

Sara laughed. “But I can’t make my own injuries numb, and that sucks.”

Mickey chuckled. “That’s why I try so hard to keep you safe. So you don’t bitch about being hurt.”

“Fuck you.” Sara was quiet for a few moments while Mickey laughed. “Do you think Emil would like to teach at our school?”

Mickey felt like he’d been punched in the gut. “I don’t know. I guess it depends on how long we keep this up before we retire. He’s got a lot of years of adventure left.”

“You do realize we’re only four years older, right? Not exactly a huge span. There’s a strong possibility he’ll be ready to retire when you are.”

“Stop, please.” _Deep breath._ “I can’t think about it.” _I want it too badly. Gods, to sleep with him every night…_

“You’ve got it bad, Mickey.”

“Shut up.”

“Tell me about something to distract yourself. Something about weapons or something. Don’t cry.”

“Something about weapons? Like what?”

“What kind of feathers are on arrows?”

“It depends on what you want to do with the arrows. But usually goose.”

“You know how to make arrows don’t you?”

“That’s called ‘fletching’ and yes. But I suck at it.”

They managed to pass the rest of the time without Mickey breaking down again. He knew part of his problem was that he was tired, they’d been on the road since before dawn. Part of it was the exhaustion of constant vigilance when traveling with Sara, because he just could not let his guard down, not even for a minute, not even this close to the capital where there would be _no_ threats. Once they got to the palace and Sara was surrounded by guards, he’d only have to worry about her getting involved with idiots that were dangerous. She had no taste. 

Moskva, the capital of Rus, was a huge city, cut in half by the wide Gold River. It was nearly ten miles from the first buildings at the outskirts to the old defensive walls. Distance inside the walls was calculated in hours not miles. 

Because there was _always_ traffic.

The road Mickey and Sara were on entered through the biggest gate. Unfortunately, so did all of the livestock that needed to enter the city as well as uncountable wagons and carriages. Everyone entering the Old City had to present credentials, and that included rough-counting cows and sheep. Luckily, most of the slaughter houses were outside the walls, so not a huge number of animals were going in, but still. Mickey and Sara had medals that allowed them to pass though and start the crowded trip to the palace. They were technically important enough to go in the main gates of the palace, but never did. Going in by the stables and going upstairs without anyone seeing them all filthy and sweaty was much better. Knowing their luggage would be following them, Sara and Mickey snuck in the side door and trouped through the halls to find their suite.

And Mickey was quietly freaking out. 

At the door, Sara pushed it open, and was immediately picked up an and spun around.

“Sara! I haven’t seen you in ages!” Emil crowed as she laughed. He set her on the floor and kissed her cheek. He looked at Mickey.

“There is no way you can pick me up like that.”

“That sounds like a challenge.” Emil crouched a little and wrapped his arms around Mickey’s waist. 

“No, this isn’t going--” 

Lifting with his legs, Emil hoisted Mickey into the air, getting a startled shout for his efforts. He could only make a half turn before he had to set him down. Mickey came down with his arms around his shoulders and a stunned look on his face.

“Where’s Mickey’s kiss?” Sara’s voice was somewhere between sassy and extra sassy.

Mickey’s eyes were huge as Emil smiled. “Right here.” He leaned close to his ear and whispered, “I missed you, _miláčku,”_ before pressing a sweet kiss to his rough cheek. Not a little peck like he’d given Sara, a kiss you’d give to your lover to wake him gently. He pulled back to smile at the stunned man. 

_Oh gods, don’t kiss him, not in front of Sara,_ Mickey panicked to himself. _I was so not prepared for that, what did he call me?_ It had to be an endearment in Czech. _I can’t look away, I want him so bad._ All of his earlier arguments for why he couldn’t pursue something with Emil were running through his head and he was so conflicted he might die.

Emil could see that Mickey was panicking about what to do. He actually _didn’t_ want to kiss him, he didn’t want their first kiss to be in the sitting room with Sara watching and Mickey freaking out, so he stepped back. “You look exhausted, are you okay?”

“It was still dark when we left. I think the heat got to me, too.” _As good an excuse as any. Much better than admitting that I cried over him on the trip._

“Want me to run a bath for you? I’ll get some food brought up for when you get out.”

Sara was quietly watching the interaction. _What the hell did Emil whisper in his ear?_ She was absolutely tickled though. Emil had stepped up his game on flirting, and Mickey had been an inch from kissing him a second ago. She closed her eyes briefly and _looked,_ her personal description of seeing things out of her line of sight. Servants were a few steps from the door with luggage, tea, and food.

“Food is on the way, someone should be at the door right about now.”

They all paused while there was a knock at the door, and Sara called out to come in. A parade of people came in, delivering packs to the twins’ bedrooms and setting tea, sandwiches, and cakes on the breakfast table under the windows. As they filed out with thanks (in a variety of languages), Sara walked over to the table. Emil watched as she whispered and touched the tea pot.

“It will stay warm now. I’m going to take a long bath. And by long, I mean long.” She nobly refrained from _looking_ behind her as she left the room.

Mickey looked at Emil. “I really need a bath, too.”

Emil cupped his cheek. “Have a sandwich, I’ll go start the water.”

He watched Emil leave the room, heart pounding, dainty cucumber sandwiches the furthest thing from his mind. _I was so close to kissing him. I don’t think I could have resisted if he’d kissed me. Gods above and below, I am so gone on him._ Mickey slowly sank down onto a chair, mentally running through the last few moments. Gods, it had felt good to have Emil’s arms around him. And just now, when he’d touched his cheek, he’d been ready to die. _That was more than flirting. That was Emil taking care of me. Like a boyfriend would._ That kiss had been way more than a flirty smack on the cheek. He could almost believe that Emil loved him. And his heart absolutely _ached_ with the need to reciprocate. 

Mickey was still staring into space when Emil rejoined him. His heart soared looking at the tired man. _It felt so good to have my arms around him. That’s all I want, to hold him for the rest of my life._ It was taking a serious effort to keep Emil from leaning down and kissing the breath out of him. “Mickey? Bubbles are ready for you, _miláčku._ Go get in the tub, I’ll pull something reasonably clean out of your packs and leave it on the bed.”

“Oh, thank you,” Mickey answered weakly. “There should actually be clean clothes in the wardrobe, there’s a spell to keep them fresh.” He still didn’t move.

“Got it.” When Mickey didn’t get up, Emil held out his hands. “Here.”

Mickey put his hands in Emil’s, and allowed himself to be pulled to his feet. “Thanks.” He laughed a little as Emil kept walking backwards to lead him to the bathroom. “I do know how to get there.” 

Emil smiled. “I don’t know, you might zone out in the middle of the room and never make it.”

“Okay, that’s fair.” Mickey didn’t make any effort to take his hands back. Most of the men he’d held hands with hadn’t had sword calluses. Without thinking about it, he squeezed Emil’s fingers and stroked with this thumbs. “Thank you for running a bath for me.” 

“Of course. You’d do the same for me.” He tugged Mickey through the bathroom door. “I’m going to go put away my new clothes, so if you need me just yell, I’ll be next door.”

Mickey nodded, and squeezed his hands again. _“Gratzie.” Mi amore._ He watched Emil go through the door into his room. _Well that was interesting._

Emil pressed his back against the door. _He was holding my hands. I don’t know if he realized how intimate that was._ It was hard not to imagine Mickey stripping and getting in the tub just on the other side of that slab of wood. _I love him so much, and gods, I want him like crazy._ Pulling himself together, Emil went about putting his new clothes, much nicer than anything he’d owned before, in the wardrobe.

Little did he know that Mickey was just staring at the door he’d gone through.

“Oh, gods above, come back,” he whispered. He couldn’t help but think of all the times Emil had teased him about sharing a bath. Now that they actually _could,_ it was painfully temping. After a minute, he managed to turn around and start taking off his filthy clothes. _One of the best things about Rus, the laundry service._ Careful to avoid slipping, Mickey lowered himself into the hot water with a blissful sigh.

 _All of the best things about a hot bath would be even better with a hot Czech knight sharing it,_ Mickey’s traitorous brain whispered. And it would, gods. Mickey _loved_ having someone wash his hair. He kept it cut short because it was absurdly thick and unruly, but that didn’t mean he didn’t enjoy it getting some attention. Emil had actually mentioned that he liked it when it was a little shaggy. _Is it that he just likes everything about me? Or is it flattery?_ He couldn’t really imagine Emil giving him empty compliments, he was too genuine a person. _Maybe Sara’s right, maybe he does love me._ What a thrilling but terrifying thought. _I know I love him,_ Mickey forced himself to admit. _If he loves me, would I really be holding him back? Would it be so wrong?_ It would selfish, but what if Emil _wanted_ to keep traveling with him? What if it was his choice? Would _that_ be wrong?

Just when Mickey was feeling cautiously optimistic, he remembered exactly why he didn’t deserve Emil, and his heart plummeted. _Deutschland. Three years ago. My epic failure._ How could he ever think Emil, a kind, brave, intuitive person, would be interested in him after he knew? _He’d never be able to trust me. You can’t have a relationship without trust._

Before he could start crying again, Mickey dunked under the water and just listened to the silence for a minute. _Do you really think Emil would judge you that way?_ He came up, blowing bubbles off of his face. If Sara could forgive him, could Emil? _I don’t know, I’m so fucked up from that. Who’d want to deal with me?_ His brain insisted that _Emil_ wanted to deal with him, and showed him every single day how much he cared about him. If he told Emil the story, and he turned away from him, it would be horrible, but he’d know for sure that they could never have been in a relationship. _Would he reject me?_ He didn’t know. _If I told him, and he didn’t hate me, and he wanted to pursue something with me, could I accept that it might end?_ He didn’t know. A lot would depend on Emil. He didn’t know when he’d have a chance to talk to him in private, he needed to keep track of Sara pretty much all of the time. _I’m not going to fail her again. She will always be safe while I’m alive._

Before he could fall asleep in the tub, Mickey forced himself to get clean, including washing his hair _twice_ because it felt so incredibly gross. One of the conditioning rinses by the tub smelled really nice, like oranges and cinnamon, and he used it, even if he didn’t see any difference in his hair afterward. He was mildly jealous of Sara’s ability to keep the bathwater hot, but not jealous enough to ask her to come heat it back up again. _She’s probably asleep if she’s out of the tub at all._ They’d left the inn around 4:00, and with the traffic in the city, had ended up in the palace around noon. He estimated it was probably 2:00, plenty of time for a nap. Wrapping a towel around his waist, Mickey pushed open the door into his room from the bathroom.

Where he came face to face with Emil, who was getting out clothes for him.

Mickey just stared for a second, unable to think of what to say. Emil had seen him in a towel before, but for some reason this was different. “Hi.”

Emil laughed at Mickey’s stunned expression. “I told you I’d pull clothes out for you.”

“Oh. Yeah.” _Pull yourself together._ “I’m contemplating a nap.”

“That’s probably a good idea, you look like you’re asleep on your feet.”

“Sara will want to make a dramatic entrance at evening court, and we’ll probably be up most of the night having ‘fun’.”

“Sara? Dramatic? _No.”_ Emil laughed when Mickey made a face. “In that case, I might take a nap too. I got up early and worked out with the palace guards and I think I probably ran about five miles, I don’t know how long that loop of the bridle paths really is.”

“Over-achiever.” _Take a nap with me._

“I don’t want to get flabby and lazy while I’m living in the lap of luxury.”

“That’s valid, I guess. I have to admit that I slack while we’re here.”

“Tsk-tsk.” Smiling, Emil walked toward Mickey, heading for the door. He leaned close. “Get some sleep, _miláčku._ What time do you want to wake up?”

“Like 5ish? Can you ask a maid to come wake us up?”

“Sure.” He pressed a soft kiss to Mickey’s now-smooth cheek. “Pleasant dreams.”

Mickey watched Emil leave, and touched the spot on his cheek that he had just kissed. “It’s almost like he decided to be my boyfriend whether I liked it or not,” he mused. It was the most wonderful feeling he could remember in years, like there was someone taking care of _him_ instead of him taking care of everyone else, even if that everyone was mostly Sara. _I want this so bad, but I don’t know. I just don’t know._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _miláčku._ is the the Czech word for sweetheart or darling.


	4. In which they danced all night

_Tap tap tap._

_Tap tap tap._

Mickey cracked open an eye. “What?”

“Get out of bed, loser.”

“Fuck you.”

He laid there for another minute or two, assuming Sara had walked away. He was experiencing what he called ‘dream hangover,’ he couldn’t quite shake the emotions and visuals from whatever had going on behind his eyelids. It had been a really nice dream, warm and cozy, and he still had a lingering feeling of soft relaxation. _I was probably dreaming about hanging out on the beach._ His family lived in a lovely villa on a cliff overlooking the sea, but also had a nice beach house a couple hours away where it was warm and sandy. He missed being at home in the summer to bask on the sand. _We’re going to have to take a season off. Soon._ He started thinking about baking in the sun with Emil, only wearing swim shorts, sharing sunset picnics, drinking actually good wine. _Gods, that would be so nice._ He knew from experience that sex on the beach was just not a good idea, but sex near the beach sounded like a great idea. Summer sun, hearing the surf rolling in, Emil’s warm skin…

“I said get up!”

Mickey jumped. “Right. Fuck off.” 

“No seriously, get up.” When he didn’t answer she added, “There’s food.”

“Fine.” _This is very inconvenient. I was really enjoying that fantasy._ “Give me a minute.” _Or a couple minutes._ He was conveniently already naked…and hoped Sara had actually walked away this time.

This was absolutely not the first time he’d fantasized about sex with Emil. And definitely not the first time he’d gotten off thinking about him. He wondered if Emil had done the same thing? _Gods, I hope so. That’s so gorgeous to imagine._ So gorgeous. Emil had long, elegant fingers, and he could imagine him stroking himself. _Or better yet, me. Gods._ Those hands on his body, his mouth, hot on his skin. _Fuck._ This was not going to take long. _Where was I, the beach. Naked. Emil._ He could almost feel Emil’s lips on his neck, and hands running down his body. His own hand was a poor substitute. 

Another vision overlaid the beach fantasy, Emil’s body, hot from the sun, pinning him to the bed. Kissing down his chest, hands low on his body, stroking him, fondling him, gently touching—

Mickey groaned, hoping Sara was fucking gone. He didn’t usually bottom. He liked it, but it was hard to let go enough to enjoy it. But nothing got him off faster than imagining Emil fucking him. Unable to resist, he sucked his fingers, getting them wet, and rubbed his entrance before sliding both inside. _“Yes,”_ he whispered, imagining that someone else was inside him. It was awkward but felt so good. Once during a boring party at his parents’ house, an older cousin had held all the tween boys captive with his stories about ‘naughty’ things that he had supposedly done or witnessed. That night was the first time he’d fingered himself, and even though he’d been afraid he was doing something terribly deviant, he hadn’t wanted to stop. Now he was lost in the vision of Emil’s long fingers opening him, stretching him, then fucking him hard in the warm summer sunshine. “Gods, _Emil,”_ Mickey groaned out, stroking faster, desperate to come. “Fuck, _fuck.”_ He imagined Emil coming inside him, and yep, that was enough. He groaned through his orgasm, hand still moving until he was soft. _Okay, that was unexpected but fucking amazing._ He gently removed his fingers, he hated the empty feeling of pulling them out too quickly. _Okay. Time to clean up._

Not ready to put on his formal clothes yet, Mickey put on the loose linens that Emil had left for him. He was feeling too lazy to put on shoes or anything, where was he going? The sitting room? No need.

Emil looked up when Mickey cracked open his door. “I wondered if you’d gone back to sleep.”

Mickey knew he was blushing. “I really thought about it.” He yawned and heard Emil laugh. “Still sleepy.”

“Have something to eat.” 

Emil was sitting in one of the comfy arm chairs, dressed in loose linen and cotton, too. Mickey leaned down and gave him a hug around the shoulders. “Thank you for the bath.” Impulsively, he kissed him on the cheek, and wondered if he was going to regret it.

_Nope, that smile could cure cancer._ He smiled back. Emil was really just the most gorgeous man. Unable to cope with the fact that he’d just kissed Emil on the cheek after getting off thinking about him, he flopped down on the sofa. He heard the other man laugh.

“That’s kind of the opposite of getting up.”

“Who cares.” Mickey lifted his head when Emil laughed again. “I had the best nap.”

“What do you dream about?”

“I’m pretty sure going to the beach. I miss being home during the summer. Sometimes we go to the seaside here in Rus, but it’s not the same. The water is colder and the beaches are rockier.”

“We should take a summer off.” _I certainly hope I get to take a summer off with Mickey._ “I’ve never been to the beach in Italia.” 

“It’s beautiful. We have the nicest little cottage right on the sand.” Mickey was quiet for a minute. “Maybe next year?”

_It sounds like he’s inviting me._ “I will never argue with relaxing by the water.” 

“Perfect.” _Did I just invite Emil to spend the summer with me? I think I did._ “Do you sunburn? You’re so fair.”

“Usually once at the beginning of the season then I’m just tan the rest of the summer.” _It is seriously taking every ounce of strength I have not to crawl on that couch and snuggle with him._ “I swim a lot when I’m at home during the summer, I get fairly dark. Or, well, I thought so until I met an Italian.”

Mickey burst out laughing, and forced himself to sit up. “Tan in Bohemia and tan in Italia are two different tans.”

Emil laughed. “Clearly. My hair bleaches out, too.”

“Oh, I bet that looks gorgeous.” _Shit, did I say that?_

Emil blushed, and smiled. “Thank you.” _I don’t know what Mickey dreamed about, but I like it._ “I usually shave.”

“You’d look 12.”

“No, I look 14.” He waited while Mickey laughed. “No, I take that back, the last time I was at home, my boyfriend from when I was 14 was speechless.”

Mickey laughed. “My first girlfriend was our household manager’s daughter. She pretends to flirt with me every time I come home even though we only dated for like 2 months when we were 13. She’s happily married and not remotely interested in me, but it makes my mother laugh every time.”

“Michal avoids me like the plague. He knows he broke my poor 15-year-old heart. He also knows that both of my older brothers will kick his ass if he so much as looks at me the wrong way.” Emil noticed the look on Mickey’s face. “Don’t worry, I’m totally over him. But I do think my brothers would still beat him up.”

“You had the same boyfriend from 14 to 15?”

“From 13 to 15. I’ve always taken relationships very seriously. I don’t think I ever had a ‘just a crush’ stage. And most people get married around 16 in my village, so it was reasonably normal.”

“Oh, wow. I was at school. We learned early that you shouldn’t fall for someone that could be your competition for a teacher’s attention. I saw that same guy for a few months when I was 16, but he was in his last year and he already had an army commission in España. My last year I was fairly serious about one of the girls in my year, and I really thought it could have gone somewhere, but she told me I’d have to stop paying so much attention to Sara.” He watched Emil’s face. “No really, I hadn’t seen her in months when she said that. We only saw each other at home on breaks when we were both in school. She wanted me to stay away from her after we graduated.”

“Weird.”

“She wanted to travel with me, but only me. I hadn’t noticed she was the jealous type until way late in the year.” 

“I’ve never had a girlfriend, so I can’t weigh in on that.”

“Men can be the jealous type, too. Sara’s first boyfriend at school started out sweet but after about a year he was psycho about her talking to anyone, even her teachers. She had to go to her advisor and tell her what was happening, and he eventually had to be sent home. He became obsessed with her. Sara has terrible taste in men.”

_You’re completely obsessed with her, Mickey._ He decided to make a joke instead of calling him on it. “What about her taste in women?”

Mickey rolled his eyes. “We have about the same taste in women.” He watched Emil’s eyes widen and laughed.

“Have you ever liked the same girl?”

“No, but she told me if flirted with her best friend, Mila, she’d kill me.” He grinned when Emil laughed. “You’ll get to meet Mila tonight. She’s pretty cool, but Sara doesn’t have to worry about me flirting with her, she has a ‘fuck off’ vibe that’s so strong _no one_ flirts with her. And she could take on both of us with a sword and come out on top, I kid you not.”

“Wow. Does Sara ‘like’ her?”

Mickey shook his head. “I don’t know. I don’t know if the world would be able to handle that much attitude in one relationship.” He hauled himself up off the sofa. “I need food. Did you eat? What is there?”

“I was waiting for you, and it looks like a salad has joined the sandwiches.”

“Oh boy, salad.” Mickey wandered over to the table. “Oh, there’s melon. I love melon. Like, any kind.”

Emil sat with him at the breakfast table and poured a cup of the still-warm tea. “I do too. I put salt on it.”

Mickey looked at Emil like he’d announced that he ate roadkill for lunch. “That is so disgusting.”

“Shut up, it’s good.” He added several slices of the bright orange fruit to his plate, along with a tiny sandwich that appeared to be chicken. “Isabella said she’d be at court tonight.” 

“Oh cool, she’s really nice. Did you meet her kids?”

Emil chuckled. “Yes. The older one gave me sage advice about places in the gardens you won’t get caught doing ‘things’.”

“Typical for a teenager.” Mickey paused. “I guess technically you’re a teenager.”

“Yes, but not like Marco. He’s still a child. I’ve been a traveling knight and mercenary since I was 16.”

“Why did you decide to do this?”

“Eat my melon with salt on it, or sell my sword?” 

“Dork. Sell your sword.” _This banter is what I live for. I want to spend my life like this._

“The landholder in my area had try outs for all of the boys that were interested in learning weapons when I was 11, and there were two kids in addition to me that he thought had the talent eventually become soldiers or even knights. I studied every day, and also got the chance to go to school with his sons and daughters. When I was 15, he approached my parents about granting me a knighthood, and I suddenly had a world of options open to me. I had conveniently just been dumped by my first love, so I had nothing holding me back, and after I was knighted, I signed on to guard a caravan to Deutschland and never looked back.” He chuckled. “Well, I actually went home pretty regularly between jobs, I even got my own house on the edge of the lake and set up a training area. I don’t blow money on lots of drinking and prostitutes like some guys, so always had plenty to take a few weeks off between jobs.” He grinned when Mickey laughed. “I’ve always spent my extra money on upgrading my armor and weapons, and still have a nice amount tucked away.”

“Sara and I are pretty careful, too. I pick on her about her clothes, but she’s actually not that bad. A lot of what she wears here, she keeps here and has reworked to look like new dresses.”

“I saw a trunk full of dresses and I wondered. What do you spend your extra money on?” 

“It depends where I am, really. While I’m here, I like to go to shows at music halls in the city and there’s a crafter that sells this insanely soft wool and stuff knitted from it during the Sunday market, and I always get some for my mother and send it home. It’s pretty expensive for wool.”

“That’s sweet of you.” 

Mickey felt warm all over. “We usually stay with a noble family in southern Deutschland, and I can’t resist getting a hundred pastries and going to every beer garden and ale house to try new brews.” He shook his head when Emil laughed. “In Schweiz I go to a resort with hot springs and just soak in hot water for a week.”

“I guess I know what I’m spending money on, then.” _If you think you’re doing any of those things without me, you’re crazy._ “I’d love to soak in hot water for a week. But if we’re in Schweiz we could do that _and_ eat pastries.”

Both men looked at their melon slices and dainty chicken sandwiches and laughed. “This is such girl food,” Mickey complained. “So you don’t gain weight and you still look graceful when you’re eating it.”

“They usually have food during evening court, right?” Emil reached over the salad to take one of the inch-by-inch square cakes. “How is this cake?” He popped it in his mouth.

“Right? But yes, there will be food. Nothing really heavy, just snacks for between dances, but something other than salad.”

“Good. Dinner was horrible, I’ll skip it any time I can.”

“Right?”

Both men looked up when Sara opened her door. She was wearing a robe, but her hair was in curlers on top of her head. “I’m starving.” She walked over to the table and looked at the offerings. “Nothing new came while I was doing my hair?” She took two cakes. “I was so hoping real food would be here.”

“I can get some real food,” Emil offered. “I think I’m the most dressed of us. I’ll be right back.”

Sara and Mickey watched him leave the room. “Okay, Mickey, you’re going to have to talk to him. Tonight. He kissed you.”

Mickey flushed. “He kissed me twice. And I might have kissed his cheek when I came out of my room.”

“What?”

“Um, I hugged him because he ran a bath for me, and just kissed his cheek. It was an impulse. Because he kissed mine.”

Sara shoved him playfully. “Gods, just kiss him when he comes back!”

“No.”

“Why not?”

“I don’t want our first kiss to be in the sitting room with you watching.”

“That’s fair. But at least consider it, okay? He cares about you. And you’ve clearly lost your mind over him.”

“Sara,” Mickey started. “What if he…three years ago. I have to tell him. What if he, he doesn’t--”

“Oh gods.” Sara tackle-hugged him. “Mickey, it’s okay, please stop torturing yourself.”

“And if, if he’s okay, then how long? I don’t know, I--”

“I’m going to tell you something, and you need to listen to me.”

Mickey looked at her. “What?”

“We cannot be joined at the hip for our entire lives because you’re so afraid that something will happen to me. You’re not just isolating me, you’re isolating yourself. You need to think about yourself, just you, on your own, and what _you_ want. I can’t have what _I_ want in life if you’re constantly glued to me, and you _love_ that man, _take a fucking chance.”_

Eyes wide, Mickey just stared at her for a minute. “I…it’s my job to keep you safe.”

“No, it’s not. We’re a team. We keep each other safe. I can take care of myself just fine, thank you. Go get laid so that I have a chance to freaking breathe.”

“What?”

“Maybe while you’re busy with Emil I can actually date someone.” Sara laughed at the look on Mickey’s face. “Or at least have a fling, Mickey, I have _needs_ and you’re killing me!”

“Oh-okay,” he answered weakly. “I just worry about you.”

“Mickey, I’m worried about _you._ Relax for once.”

“But, after what happened, I--”

“Mickey, just stop. Stop thinking about it. I’m over it. Seriously. You fucked up, but it’s over. I’m safe, Georg and his family are safe, you’re safe. It’s over. Let it go.”

“You don’t--”

“I _do_ understand,” Sara interrupted. “But you clearly need someone else to absolve you of your guilt. Tell Emil about it. I’m like 99% sure he won’t think any less of you. Then just go to bed with him and give me some space.”

“Oh, uh, okay.” _What the hell just happened? Did Sara break up with me? Can that even happen? We’re twins? Right?_

“Food is on the way,” Emil announced as he walked back into the room, unaware of the conversation that the other two had been having in his absence. “I asked for something the staff would have for dinner.”

“Oh, then it will probably be really good,” Sara replied. “The evening staff probably just ate, so we’ll get what they had.” She ate her two tiny cakes in one bite. 

Mickey shook his head to clear it. “Dinner should be starting about now.”

“I’m so sad we’re missing it,” Sara deadpanned. “Dinner is awful. We can get away with not going most of the time. I usually try to go once a week or so, so that King Asshole doesn’t feel like I’ve forgotten that he thought I was cute when I sassed him.”

“He doesn’t like me at all,” Mickey added. “Like, he pretends I don’t exist.”

“I see.” Emil looked at them, concerned. “Should I do anything special to avoid his attention?”

“Just be yourself.” Sara winked at him. “You’re the most likeable person I’ve ever met.”

“Agreed.” Mickey waited while a maid brought in some sort of toasted bread with meat and cheese melted on it, cold potato salad, and pickles. “Russian pickles are crazy good and they know their way around potato salad.”

Emil laughed. “I believe you. Remember I’ve been here before?”

“Not to the palace,” Mickey argued. “You’re about to taste the best potato salad you’ve ever dreamed of.”

Seated at the table, all three helped themselves to the simple fair. “You’re right, this is the potato salad of my dreams.”

Sara and Mickey both laughed. “Just when you thought you knew all there was to know about potatoes, Rus had to throw this at you,” Sara teased. 

“Deutschland knows how to do potato salad,” Emil countered. “I’ve had more jobs there than anywhere else.”

“That’s true,” Mickey agreed. “But Rus also makes alcohol from potatoes, so they win.”

“That’s a powerful argument,” Emil laughed.

“Do _not_ let Mickey drink vodka. Just, no. You’ll regret it. But not as much as he will.”

“Shut up, no, do _not_ talk about that, Sara, I swear to all the gods, I will _kill_ you.”

Emil watched Mickey’s eyes sparkle as he (comically) argued with Sara. He could tell Mickey was just pretending to be mad, that this was a game for them, but that he probably _really_ did not want Sara to share such an embarrassing story. “I need to hear this story. Soon. But we should probably finish eating and get dressed.”

Sara deflated. “You’re right. I need to do my make up and finish my hair.” She stood from the table. “And I will happily tell the tale of Mickey getting shitfaced on vodka at _any_ spare second you have.”

“Gods, no, Emil, don’t listen to her.”

Cackling, Sara turned around to go in her room. “You’ll _die.”_ She shut the door still laughing.

Emil turned to Mickey. “Now’s your chance to tell the story before Sara can.”

Mickey leveled glare at him. “Never.”

“Suit yourself.” He grinned to make sure Mickey knew he was teasing. “What are you wearing?”

“I hadn’t actually thought about it.”

“You probably should, since you need to put something else on for court.”

Mickey looked down at his faded summer clothes. “What, there aren’t any holes, it’s good enough.”

Emil punched his shoulder. “Go get dressed, I’ll do the same.”

“What are _you_ wearing? Did you say you got new clothes?”

“My one sorry ‘nice’ tunic and pair of trousers didn’t pass muster for court. Isabella’s husband took me to get some new things.”

“I can’t wait to see them.” Mickey felt a little thrill at the idea of seeing Emil in formal wear. In his experience, most hot guys were even hotter in formal wear.

In his room, Mickey opened the wardrobe and half-heartedly looked at the offerings. “Maybe I need to get new clothes,” he muttered to himself. “I guess this works.”

He paused, undressed, and looked at himself in the mirror on the wardrobe door. _I’m really nothing special, I mean, I’m in good shape, and have all the right parts in the right places, but…I don’t know._ Mickey hadn’t even considered the idea that Emil might not be attracted to him. _He’s been flirting with me, and he’s seen me basically naked, I can’t be repulsive to him._

Sighing, Mickey dressed himself in black trousers (lightweight fabric seeing as how the ballroom would be a sauna), white silk shirt (no ruffles), dark violet silk waistcoat with jet buttons, black shoes. He turned to see himself from other angles in the mirror, and decided he looked okay. “But I want to impress him, right?” He tapped on the bathroom door to see if it was occupied, then went in and rifled around in the cabinets, and found that, as usual, the palace staff had anticipated _everything_ he might need, and a fresh jar of the cream Sara used in her hair to keep it in place was waiting for him. He didn’t like using pomade, which most men used, since it got greasy so fast. One of Sara’s school friends made this, and it cost a fortune, but was the hair product to have if you were well-to-do. He smoothed a little into his hair, styling it a little, and wiped his hands on the towel. It smelled nice, too. Fresh but not too floral. Sara had confided in him that although her friend _claimed_ it wasn’t magical, but compounded with magically enhanced herbs, she let the rumor persist that it actually _was_ magical. It wasn’t. It was a marketing ploy. But as a hair product, it did actually do its job. Deciding he looked about as good as he could, he stepped out into the sitting room. 

Neither Emil nor Sara were in the room, so he took a second to just look out the window and enjoy the quiet. There was so much going on in his head all the time that solitude was a requirement, and he didn’t get it often. When they took a month or two off in the middle of the winter, he usually spent as much time alone as he could, either in his room, or at the beach house (because no one was on the beach in the winter). Sara was as extroverted as it was possible to be, and while Mickey didn’t think he was a complete loner, he was definitely more of an introvert than his sister. 

“Mickey?”

He turned around and smiled at Emil. “Your new clothes look great, let me see.” 

Emil just stared. “Mickey, you look…amazing. I don’t think I’ve ever seen anyone so gorgeous.”

Mickey’s eyes widened and he smiled, surprised by the compliment. “Thank you.” 

Emil hadn’t realized that either of them had been moving until they met in the center of the room. He cupped his cheek. “Mickey…”

And then Sara opened her door.

Mickey jumped. Emil laughed silently, and slowly took his hand back. _Not in front of Sara._

Sara was pissed she hadn’t waited 15 more seconds to come out of her room. _Oh well._

“Well, what do you think?” She twirled around to show the movement of the gossamer thin layers of blue silk swirling around her body. “I paid a fortune for this dress, I want it to be the center of attention.”

Emil laughed. “It’s fabulous. I like the gold flowers in your hair.”

“Thank you,” she smiled, patting her hair to make sure it was still in place.

Mickey smiled. “You look beautiful, sister dear.” He kissed her cheek. “Ready?”

Sara mentally calculated the appropriate level of sass for her next statement. “Where’s Emil’s kiss?”

Their eyes met. “Right here,” Mickey replied. He leaned close and whispered in his ear, “You look beautiful, _amore_ ,” and pressed a loving kiss to his cheek.

Sara repressed a giggle. _If they aren’t going at it by midnight, I’ll be fucking shocked._

Emil knew his face had to be showing everything he was feeling: surprise, joy, hope…love. So much love. _‘Amore’ is the Italian word for love, right? Does Mickey love me? Oh, gods, please._ He’d just assumed that it would take months of building trust between them for Mickey to fall in love with him. _I love him so much, it almost hurts to look at him._ And Mickey was smiling at him, a soft smile that he’d never seen before. It took an act of willpower he didn’t know he _had_ to keep from kissing him. 

_He loves me,_ Mickey realized. _I don’t know how, or why, but he does._ He smiled into those beautiful blue eyes. _It almost hurts, I love him so much._

“Ahem, boys?”

Both of them jumped, spell broken by the one actual mage in the room. Mickey looked at Sara. “Right. Dramatic entrance time.”

“Are you calling me dramatic?”

“Yes.”

Mickey held the door for both Sara and Emil to walk into the hall and couldn’t help but touch the other man as he walked past, so he gently placed his hand on his back as he followed him out the door. Emil graced him with the most beautiful smile. _Gods, I’m so fucking in love with him._ He sent a silent prayer to all the gods that Emil wanted to be with him. _I’ve gone from being sure this couldn’t happen to being desperate to make sure it does happen._

Emil and Mickey fell into place flanking Sara as she walked down the hall toward the ballroom. Her dress looked magnificent, even from the point of view of a man and brother. Emil looked fantastic too. His shirt was a really lovely blue, darker than sky blue but like not cobalt blue, it was, like, blue but pretty. He was wearing a waistcoat that was silver and blue silk worked in a geometric pattern, and dark blue trousers. _He looks amazing. Just, so handsome. I have to tell him._ He’d smile. He loved making Emil smile. 

There were still people milling about in the halls, and whispers followed them as they passed. At the open doors to the ballroom, Sara composed herself and looked over her shoulders at each of them. Mickey nodded. Emil winked.

A hush fell across the crowd when they walked into the room. Sara looked around. She immediately spotted Victor and Chris, with mage sight they were both beacons, two of the most magical non-mages she’d ever seen. Another man was just as bright, standing with them. _Interesting._ She watched Mila turn around and their eyes met. Sara couldn’t help but grin as her best friend called out a greeting and rushed to see her.

“When did you get here, why didn’t you tell me?” Mila was complaining as she crushed the tiny mage in a hug. 

“I needed a bath and a nap so _bad,_ you have no idea.” She pulled back and looked at the other woman. “Your dress is beautiful!” Sara knew that Mila actually hated wearing dresses all the time at the palace. Whenever the two of them were just hanging out, both wore shorts or pants and loose shirts. 

“So is yours! You’ve outdone yourself with this one. You’ll never top this.”

Sara laughed, and saw Victor and the dark-haired man over her shoulder. “Victor! Christophe!” She launched herself at Victor, he was one of the coolest people she’d ever met. She pulled back to throw herself into Chris’s arms. No one was as nice as Chris when you were a crying teenager. 

She looked from Chris’s smiling hazel eyes to Victor, and to the man he was with. “Victor! Who is this?”

“My true love, Yuuri. We have a story to tell you.”

“True love?” Sara knew her eyes were widening. “As in, magical true love?”

The young man, Yuuri, looked at her. “Victor kissed me awake.” Sara watched his eyes slide away from hers and back to Victor. “I don’t remember anything from my old life.”

“Holy fuck,” she breathed out. “I haven’t seen a genuine sleeping spell before. And with amnesia? This is amazing.” _Dude, this is exciting. Something to do while we’re here._

“He’s not a case study, Sara.”

Sara laughed. “Oh, sorry. It’s nice to meet you, Yuuri.” She embraced him, happy to hug someone that Victor loved. 

Mickey was losing his mind. Yes, he knew Victor and Chris were gay. It didn’t matter. The way Sara threw herself at people was so fucking dangerous. It wasn’t that they were _men_ that was bothering him, even though that’s what Sara thought. It was her _behavior_ , she was just assuming that _everyone_ around the two princes was going to be happy to see her and have no ulterior motives. If someone was going to hurt her, this was a really good time. 

And then he watched her hug a _stranger_ , some guy that was clearly foreign, _without even thinking about it_. Part of his brain thought he was probably gay just by virtue of his close proximity to Victor, but he was still a total unknown. He was trying desperately to calm down, but Sara was asking for trouble.

And then she caught him with the look of ‘what the fuck are you doing’ on his face and was clearly pissed. 

“Michele Crispino, what is your problem? Come say hello to our _host_ and his friends and chill the fuck out.”

Mickey sighed, deflated. She’d never understand. He looked over to Emil. He was practically glowing he was so happy. _What is my life?_

Sara rolled her eyes at her brother. “Yuuri, this is my twin, Mickey, and this is Emil, who’s been traveling with us.” 

Mickey shook his hand because it was required to be polite. Emil gave him a hug and Mickey was immediately jealous, and thought he might develop a hatred for the unassuming dark-haired man. 

Sara rolled her eyes again. _Really? He’s jealous of Emil hugging Yuuri already? Dearest gods._ “So tell me more about this adventure, Victor, I have to hear everything,” Sara demanded, taking Victor’s arm and steering him away from the door. “You too, Yuuri, I need to know everything!”

Mickey prepared himself for the prospect of following Sara through the crowd. Some crowds were dangerous. This one was really just annoying and trying to cover up body odor with too much perfume. Still. 

Emil watched Mickey looking absolutely miserable as he braced himself to follow Sara while she talked to the two princes. _Time to intervene._ “Mickey.” The other man turned to look at him. “Can I have this dance?” He held out his hand, palm up, and smiled. _Please dance with me, I’ve been dreaming about this for days._

_Oh gods, how can I not?_ “Oh, yes, okay.” He’d been planning to be miserable, and was caught off guard. “I kind of forgot that we could dance,” he admitted, and placed his hand in Emil’s. “You should lead, you’re taller.”

Laughing, Emil led him to the dance floor. “That works.” _Anything to have you in my arms._

Mickey adapted easily. This was a gliding type dance popular in Italia, and he knew both parts. He started out placing his hand on Emil’s shoulder, but when he felt the other man’s hand on his waist, he decided that wasn’t close enough, and slid his hand around his back. Emil smiled at him, and wrapped his arm around Mickey’s waist. The tempo was fast, so it wasn’t especially intimate, but it was _wonderful._ Dancing with Emil was everything Mickey never knew he wanted.

The next dance was a Deutsch country dance that was fun to do and left them both breathless and laughing. Not even thinking about it, Emil pulled Mickey into a hug as people around them were moving off the floor. It just felt so natural to wrap his arms around him after dancing together. And Mickey was squeezing him, so he clearly wasn’t bothered. Pulling back, Emil smiled into Mickey’s sparkling eyes. “That was insane.” 

Mickey laughed, giddy from the arms that were still around him. “Totally insane. Want to get a drink and catch our breath?” 

“Good idea.” Reluctantly, Emil loosened his arms and let Mickey slip out of them. “What sort of drinks are normal here?”

“Well, there are usually glasses of red or white wine in the buffet room, but waiters will be going around with champagne and lemonade. I’m partial to champagne.”

Emil smiled. “I like champagne but haven’t had it often.” He and Mickey had been tipsy before, but tonight was different, and he wondered what would happen.

They moved out of the crowd of dancers, and snagged champagne as a waiter walked past them. They were standing out of the way of the people trying to move from one side of the room to the other, sipping their sparkling wine and trying to look casual when all they wanted to do was stare at each other, when Mickey heard their names called. He and Emil looked between the silk-clad bodies to see Isabella’s son, Marco, coming toward them.

“Mickey, Emil, hi!” he gasped out, breathless. “I don’t know what that dance is but it’s more like exercise than art. How are you? Oh, this is my girlfriend, Anastasia.”

Emil and Mickey both chuckled at the word vomit, and smiled at Anastasia, who couldn’t look more Russian if she tried. “It’s nice to meet you, Anastasia,” Mickey answered, nodding with a smile.

Emil bowed over her hand like a gentleman. “Lovely to meet you.” 

The pale girl giggled. “Please, call me Anya.” 

“Were did Sara go? Anya wanted to meet her.”

It suddenly occurred to Mickey that he had completely forgotten about Sara. “I don’t know.” He started to panic just a little. _I never leave her alone for this long._

“She’s with the princes in the garden,” Emil replied. “Apparently Prince Victor has a story to tell her.”

“Probably about the guy he’s been with.” Marco shook his head. “No one will stop talking about him.”

“It’s the best gossip in years, stop it,” Anya laughed. “Speculation is wild, but everyone seems to agree that it looks like Prince Victor _finally_ has a boyfriend.”

Mickey laughed. “I’ll believe it when I see it.” _No seriously, where is Sara?_ He looked past Marco’s girlfriend to scan the room. If there was something _really_ wrong, he’d feel it, but by then it would probably be too late.

“Come say hi to my parents, I know my dad will want to grill you about politics in random countries I don’t care about.” Marco rolled his eyes. “Seriously, who cares.”

Emil placed his hand in the center of Mickey’s back, and guided him along as Marco led the way to his waiting parents. He noticed that Mickey was much closer to him than usual as they walked, but he didn’t know if it was just the crowd making him scoot over. But when he felt Mickey put his hand on his back, he knew it wasn’t an accident. _We’re…walking with our arms around each other. In front of everyone. Oh, please, gods above, let this work out. I love him so much._

Isabella greeted them both warmly with cheek kisses, and told Mickey he looked wonderful, which startled a smile out of him. She also gushed over the beautiful new outfit Emil was wearing, making him laugh and blush a little. 

“You do look very handsome,” Mickey agreed. “Blue is a good color on you.”

Emil smiled. “Thank you.” _I will treasure this compliment for my entire life._

Within seconds, Ricardo had Mickey engaged in a conversation about military matters in the countries they’d traveled through so far this season. Emil just watched, bemused, until Marco asked him, “Are you, like, Mickey’s boyfriend?”

Emil blushed and covered it with a breathless laugh. “No, not yet.”

“’Not yet’, huh?”

He smiled at Marco. “I’m hoping I can talk to him tonight. I’m in love with him.”

Marco’s eyes widened. “No, really?”

“Really. Don’t tell him.”

“I won’t. You’re really cool, I hope it works out. Something happened to him a couple years ago and it was like he forgot how to have fun.”

“I wish he’d tell me about it. Everyone has told me something happened.”

“I bet he will. He obviously really likes you, he danced with you.”

Emil frowned. “Doesn’t he dance when he’s here?”

Marco shook his head. “No, he just follows Sara around or stares at her while she’s dancing. He used to dance, though. He just stopped.”

“He’s a very good dancer.” Emil watched Mickey for a moment. “I’ve been looking forward to dancing with him for days.” He heard Marco laugh. “What?”

“You sound like you love him.”

Emil shook his head. “Can’t help it.”

There was a stir in the crowd, and everyone looked to see that Sara had come back in from the gardens, somehow gathering more attention than all of the royalty with her. A tall man had joined Chris. Mickey looked relieved. _He was worried about where Sara had gone._ She was probably in the safest place in the world, surrounded by people who loved her and an entire army of guards that would protect Prince Victor with their lives.

Before anyone could suggest they talk to her, the band struck up a waltz, and the tall gentleman swept Sara out onto the dance floor. Emil immediately took action. “Dance with me, _miláčku_?”

Mickey looked at Emil, startled, but took his hand. “I saw Sara--”

Emil moved lightly on his feet, and Mickey had to follow him, and soon fell into step. “I’m sure she’s fine. The tall man entered the room with Prince Christophe. At the very least, he is a trusted friend.”

Mickey relaxed a little. “Oh, I missed that.” He shook his head. “I’ve been distracted tonight.”

“I think that’s probably a good thing.” Emil pulled him a little closer, and Mickey smiled. “Take the night off from being her bodyguard, _miláčku._ Just dance with me.”

He looked into those luminous blue eyes. “O-okay,” he answered. All he could do was look at Emil for the next few measures. “You look so handsome tonight,” Mickey whispered. “I wanted to tell you earlier when Sara came in the room.” He didn’t want to look away. Emil’s smile was like an embrace.

“Thank you, Mickey. I meant it when I said you were the most gorgeous man I’d ever seen.”

Mickey looked down, laughing a little. “You’re delusional, but I still loved hearing that.”

_When you smile at me, I forget there are other men on this planet._ “I’m so glad we’ve gotten to dance together. I was sort of daydreaming about this. I feel like I’m in a fairytale.”

“That is the most romantic thing anyone has ever said to me,” Mickey answered, touched, and so in love it was hard to keep it all in. _I want to kiss him. But not in front of everyone._ He wanted their first, possibly only, kiss to be just them. “You could pass for a handsome prince.”

Emil felt warm all over. “You could too.” 

The dance ended too soon, and the next one wasn’t as romantic, but neither was willing to let the other go. They shared three dances before Mickey claimed he could hear Emil’s stomach growling and they went to get food.

“I know I should have something like a sandwich, but I just want all of those cakes,” Mickey complained in a comically dramatic voice. Emil was bringing out a level of playfulness he’d forgotten he had.

“I won’t tell if all you eat is cake,” Emil promised. “What is this?” he asked, holding up a little glass cup with something in it.

“Oh, it’s custard. Sometimes here they put it in a cup with whipped cream instead of making a tart with it. It’s really good.” To prove it, Mickey took it out of Emil’s hand, grabbed a spoon, and ate a bite. He laughed at the shock on the other man’s face.

“I cannot believe you just did that.”

“Here, taste it,” Mickey offered, holding the spoon for Emil to take. Instead he ate the bite off the spoon, leaving it in Mickey’s hand. _Gods that was sexy. Who knew custard could be this interesting?_

“It is good,” Emil agreed, and reached for his dessert. Mickey held it out of his reach and ate another bite. “You could get your own, you know.”

“Yours tastes better.” Held the spoon out to give Emil another bite.

This time Emil held Mickey’s eyes as he slowly took the treat from the spoon and licked his lips. “I see.”

Mickey was trying to decide how seductive to make his next bite when a group of older ladies walked in the room. His eyes met Emil’s and they both laughed silently and moved to the side of the room. “Do you want it back?”

_That was some intense flirting_ , Emil thought to himself. “I don’t know, watching you eat it might be more appealing.” He winked.

Mickey laughed quietly and offered him another bite, which he took (but less seductively). “I still want to share. The old ladies will just have to be scandalized.”

There were only a few bites left for them to share, and they did their best not to be completely inappropriate for polite company. It was still very intimate, in a light, flirty way. Emil resisted the urge to kiss Mickey. _I don’t want our first kiss to be in front of those women in the buffet room._ “Do you want another snack or to go back to dancing?”

“Let’s go dance. We can always eat more later. I might even let you have your own dessert, who knows.”

Emil shook his head, laughing. “Thanks. I think.” _I’ll happily share all of my desserts with you, láska._

They enjoyed a few light country dances, and sat out a boring pattern dance (Rus loved those), before the band played another waltz. Mickey was determined to ask first this time. “Dance with me, _amore?”_

“Of course,” Emil answered, thrilled by Mickey’s endearment. “You can lead this time.”

It was a moderately fast waltz, more upbeat than romantic, but neither of them noticed. Mickey was too happy to have his arm around Emil’s waist, and feel his arm around his shoulders, to care. He couldn’t tear his eyes away from the other man’s, and was sure every ounce of love he felt was written on his face. _Please, whatever gods are listening, please let him be mine. I’ll take care of him for the rest of our lives._ And Emil was looking at him like he was the most precious thing in the world. _It would be so easy to kiss him right now._

Emil was watching the emotions on Mickey’s face. _I think…I think he does love me. Gods, what’s been keeping us apart? Why is he holding back?_ Staring into Mickey’s bottomless violet eyes, he knew the other man wanted to kiss him, and he tipped his head down, just a little, and was surprised when Mickey changed his mind, and pressed his forehead against his chin. He kissed his temple. “It’s okay.”

“Not in here,” Mickey whispered.

Emil nodded just a little, still happy to dance with Mickey’s cheek against his. He spotted Sara dancing with Yuuri, but didn’t tell the other man. As the dance drew to a close, Emil reluctantly let Mickey step away, but caught both of his hands. “Would you like to go somewhere to talk?”

Mickey squeezed Emil’s hands and nodded. “The gardens?”

Keeping one of Mickey’s hands in his, Emil led him from the dancefloor, and out onto the marble terrace. It was instantly cooler and quieter. He looked over his shoulder and smiled at the other man before leading him down the short staircase.

As they stepped down onto the graveled path, Mickey knew everything was about to change. He threaded his fingers through Emil’s. If this was all he got, he wanted Emil to know just how much he loved him.

Emil spotted the twin leaping deer statues, and led Mickey across the grass and down the path. He had no idea what to expect, other than it probably wouldn’t have anyone making out because the benches were uncomfortable.

What it was, was a small clearing surrounded by dark trees. A tiny pond with a fountain was in the center, and colored lights glowed amidst the falling streams, around the edges of the pond, and under the water. Floating lights were in the trees above them and around them. It was a fairy garden.

“Oh, this is so pretty,” Mickey whispered. “I didn’t even know this was here.”

“I have it on excellent authority that no one comes over here because the benches are uncomfortable.”

Mickey laughed softly. “I guess we’ll find out how bad the benches are.” He tugged Emil over to the nearest stone bench. “Not too bad.”

They both sat sideways, facing each other, not talking at first. Mickey had both of his hands on the stone in front of him, Emil had his right arm on the back of the bench. Mickey was looking down, and Emil wondered if he was trying to gather his thoughts. “What are you thinking about?”

Mickey didn’t look up. “I’m thinking…I’m thinking about how much I wanted to kiss you. How much I’ve wanted to kiss you all day. How much I missed you the two days you were gone.”

Emil smiled, even though Mickey wasn’t looking at him to see it. “I wanted to kiss you, too. It took a lot of willpower not to kiss you when you walked into the suite earlier.” When Mickey didn’t answer, or even look up, Emil asked, “ _Miláčku_ , what’s wrong?”

_Don’t cry._ “I…I have to tell you this. I know you think you want me. And gods, I can’t describe how much I want you. But I don’t know if you’ll still be interested after this story.”

“I can’t imagine that,” Emil answered softly. “I can’t believe you could ever have done something that would change how I feel about you.”

Mickey laughed humorlessly. “We’ll see.” He looked up. “Three years ago, I fucked up to a degree that I didn’t think was possible.” He met Emil’s eyes. “I’m lucky that Sara and I are alive.”

“Tell me?” _Gods, this is torturing him._ “I won’t judge until I’ve heard the whole story.”

Mickey closed his eyes and shook his head. “Thanks.” He braced himself. “Three years ago, Sara and I were in Deutschland. We’d just finished a job escorting a bunch of kids from Italia to a mage school in Deutschland, a favor for an old school friend of Sara’s. It was boring, and easy, and we were hoping to find something more interesting. The innkeeper where we were staying said that he was hosting a group of monster hunters tracking a werewolf, and they would probably love our help for a cut of the reward. I think we considered it for all of 5 seconds.”

“That sounds like an exciting job. I’ve never hunted any uncanny creatures.”

“I had, Sara gets jobs for tracking uncanny creatures regularly. But never a werewolf. It _did_ sound exciting. It was supposed to.” He shook his head, a pained look on his face. “The innkeeper pointed us to the table where the monster hunters were drinking, and we walked over. Sara stopped me, and called dibs on the hunt master, he was really hot.”

Emil laughed softly. “What did he look like?”

“Big, muscular, blond, boisterous personality, you get it. He was also very charming in that rough, manly kinda way, and Sara was smitten. She was welcome to him, he was clearly straight as a board, and I didn’t think anything of it. We introduced ourselves and asked about the possibility of joining the hunt, and we negotiated a job deal on the spot. They had a mage, but he wasn’t very powerful. I think he was in awe of Sara, he’d actually heard of her before. They were happy to have me, since I knew how to use more than just a sword, you know, we’ve worked out together.”

“Your aim with throwing knives is impressive. And you’re _almost_ as good as me with a bow.”

Mickey couldn’t help but laugh. “Thanks.” He shook his head. “Anyway, we took off into the woods the next morning, it was a really dense forest. Their mage said he could sense the creature, and I have to admit that these guys were good trackers. What was weird was that Sara couldn’t sense a monster at all. She told me that we were being watched by a variety of uncanny creatures, but none of them were especially interested in us, and none of them were disturbed, which they should have been by a werewolf.”

“But their weak mage could sense him?”

“Yes. In hindsight, that should have been a clue that something was up. I didn’t notice that Sara was concerned though, I was having too much fun learning new weapons, getting lessons on tracking, and basically hanging out with a bunch of guys. I hadn’t just hung out with a bunch of fighters since school, and it was just…I’d missed it.”

“I understand that.”

“One night, we were making camp, and Sara wanted to talk to me. She said she didn’t trust that these guys were really on the right side of good and evil. She thought we needed to be careful with them. I told her to chill out and that everything was fine. She got mad at me and went to bed. I hung out by the fire with the guys for a while before I went to bed. I just assumed that Sara was in the tent.”

“But she wasn’t?”

Mickey shook his head. “No. She’d gone out to look for the werewolf on her own. In the middle of the night. In pitch dark. With no help.” He calmed himself with a force of will. “While I was happily making jokes with my bros before passing out, totally oblivious.”

“Sara is very strong-willed. I’m not really surprised by this.”

“I get chills every time I think about it. Well, I woke up when she came back. She tried to tell me about the werewolf and what she’d found out and I was just so freaked out that she could have been killed that I started yelling at her. Of course, this woke everyone up. When they asked me what was going on, Sara begged me not to tell them anything. I didn’t listen. I told them everything.”

“What was the everything?”

“We were tracking a completely non-dangerous shapeshifter that these guys had been hunting for weeks just for the fun of torturing him, letting him get a little ahead then catching up to him. They’d burned down his family’s house to get them to run out and be slaughtered, and he’d run so they’d have someone to chase. There was no monster. There was no reward. They were hunting an innocent man just for the fun of it, and planned to kill him anyway.” Mickey was quiet for a minute. “And I trusted them.”

“So now you don’t trust anyone. You don’t trust Sara. You don’t trust yourself.”

“How can I?” he asked bitterly.

“What happened?”

“The hunt master picked up Sara by the throat and screamed at her about what a whore she was and threw her on the ground. And I just stood there. I couldn’t move. Then he gave me the choice of sticking with him and his men, or taking Sara’s side and, I quote, being ‘no better than a whore.’ That wasn’t a choice.”

“Of course not.”

“He shoved us in his tent, told two of the men to guard us, and they took off into the darkness. There was only one place for a lair in that area, they already knew it, so they were going to corner the werewolf, catch him, and make us watch them skin him alive.” Mickey shivered. “I still couldn’t do anything. I’ve never felt that useless before or since. Sara was actually thinking, and went through Thor’s stuff and found this little toy wolf, walked out, and tossed it into the campfire. The guards attacked her of course, and Emil, I saw the worst thing I’ve ever seen. Sara held out her hand, and the guy’s knife flew out of his thigh sheath and into her hand. It balanced upright on her palm, and when his momentum carried him to her, she shoved it up his nose into his brain.” Mickey took a deep breath. “I’d seen Sara kill before. But not like that. Not with so much malice. Not in a way to drench herself with someone’s blood.”

Emil had no idea what to say, he was sure his eyes were wide as saucers. “That’s…terrifying.”

“I finally pulled my head out of my ass and took the other guy down. At about that second the wolf came sprinting into camp and Sara fucking through her arms around his neck. I was frozen and about to piss myself when he _licked her face.”_

“So this wolf truly was not dangerous?”

Mickey shook his head. “No, he was a man in the shape of a wolf. A really nice guy, it turns out. I was falling all over myself trying to figure out how to apologize and make up for my complete lapse in judgement when Sara told me to shut the fuck up, and we got our stuff, saddled the horses, and got lost. Georg, that was his name, rode pillion with Sara in some of my extra clothes until we got back to a real town. Sara can do this…thing…where it’s impossible to track us. We got away. No thanks to me.”

“And now you can’t trust your instincts, so you rely on being hyper-aware of Sara at all times, keeping her from getting into any kind of trouble.”

“I can’t let my guard down, not for a minute. I failed her, I nearly got my twin sister killed.” _Don’t cry._ “Because I was having too much fun.”

“Mickey,” Emil started softly. “Did you really think this story would make me turn away from you?”

Mickey looked up, unwelcome tears in his eyes. “How can it not? How can you trust me?”

“I trust you, _miláčku_ , because I know you’ll never make that kind of mistake again. You’re human, Mickey. Think about this. If there was no reward that they wanted to split with you, but they were so happy to have you join them, what do you think their motive was?”

He just stared at him. “I…don’t know.”

“Something tells me they worked hard for you to feel that you were one of them. It would be hard to resist joining a band of brothers who are actively trying to make you welcome. You trusted them because they made themselves trustworthy to you so that they could add your skills to their hunt. Their goal may have been to kill you both in the end.”

“I should have known better.”

“Why would you? You had no reason to think they were anything but good people.”

“That’s a flaw in and of itself.”

Emil shook his head. “No, Mickey, seeing the good is what keeps you sane. I’m going to tell you something, and I want you to listen to me.”

Mickey looked up, feeling like he was experiencing déjà vu. “What?”

“You didn’t do anything wrong. You made a mistake you were meant to make. Everyone survived, and Sara has forgiven you, yes?” He waited while Mickey nodded. “Forgive yourself, _láska._ Stop torturing yourself.” He shifted so he could cover Mickey’s hand with his own. “I still feel exactly the same as I did when we entered this clearing.” When Mickey didn’t respond he moved closer, their knees were almost touching. “Is this okay?”

Mickey took a deep breath, not sure how he was even feeling. He nodded slowly, then faster when he realized he’d made up his mind. “Yes.” He looked up just a little, still not sure he could meet Emil’s eyes.

_I’m not going to let you obsess on this, I’m not going to ask you again to be sure._ Emil leaned closer, until they were breathing the same air, and pressed his lips to Mickey’s. 

It was a soft, gentle kiss. Easy to pull back from with a soft smile. But neither of them did. Emil didn’t know how long they kissed, not quite chaste, but not yet passionate. At some point, Mickey found his other hand, and they linked their fingers together. It was Mickey who pulled away first, but Emil saw that it was because he was breathless, not scared, not angry, not sad.

_He…kissed me._ In the next second, Mickey realized that he hadn’t had nearly enough of kissing Emil. He moved as close as he could while they were seated across from each other, slid his arms around his neck, and brought their lips together again. And it was _amazing._

Emil was surprised for a moment before he pulled himself together and wrapped his arms around Mickey’s warm body. It was the most natural thing in the world to open his mouth, and he shivered when Mickey stroked his tongue with his own. Emil _loved_ kissing, and Mickey was an incredible kisser. It went from slowly passionate to hot and wanting very, very quickly.

Annoyed that he couldn’t get any closer, Mickey pulled away with a gasp and pushed Emil’s shoulder mutely, wanting him to turn to sit properly on the bench. As soon as he did, Mickey straddled him, and captured his lips again. Emil’s hands were moving on his back, and Mickey caught them and moved them to his ass. He gasped when Emil pulled them closer together, they were both hard and it felt _fucking fantastic._ He rocked down onto Emil and felt him groan into their messy kiss. And he could finally, _finally_ , put is fingers in Emil’s hair, and yes, it was just as soft as it looked. Something was starting to pierce the warm haze of pleasure Mickey was feeling, and it finally formed into a thought.

“Stop, stop,” he gasped, pulling back.

Emil immediately removed his hands from Mickey’s body, and looked up at him, terrified. “Oh gods, what did I do?”

Mickey breathed for a second, before relaxing and laughing a little. He took Emil’s hands and returned them to his waist, then kissed him again. “I don’t want our first time together to be fully clothed, in the garden, on a really uncomfortable stone bench.”

Laughing softly, Emil slid his arms around Mickey and pulled him as close as he could, squeezing him tight. “Okay, I can understand that.” He felt Mickey’s arms tight around his shoulders and hugged him as hard as he could, getting a squeak for his efforts. “Oh gods, Mickey.”

“Emil,” Mickey borderline sobbed, so happy and relieved he wasn’t sure how he was going to function. He pressed his face against his neck. “Emil.” _Is it too soon to tell him I love him?_

Emil loosened his hold on Mickey, and they moved apart just enough to look at each other. “I am so glad I didn’t kiss you in the sitting room earlier.”

Mickey laughed. “Me too. I didn’t want to share it with Sara. Or the people in the ballroom.”

“I wanted it to be somewhere slightly more romantic than in front of the couch.”

“Well, you picked the perfect place.” Mickey pressed another kiss to Emil’s smiling lips. “I should get out of your lap.”

“Alright.” He helped Mickey sit beside him, and turned his body to face him. “I’m not ready to go back inside yet, though.” _I still need time to get used to you being mine._

“I don’t think either of us are in a state to be among polite company anyway.” 

Emil laughed. “Right.” He leaned close and kissed Mickey again, softly. “I can’t tell you how happy I am.”

“I was so convinced I couldn’t have this,” Mickey answered. “When I realized you were flirting with me, it almost killed me that I couldn’t have you.”

“When was that?” 

“Like, a month ago?”

Emil gave Mickey a look of pure disbelief. “Last month?”

Mickey frowned. “How long were you flirting with me?”

“Mickey, I have been trying to get you in bed since the day we met. I was starting to wonder if you were straight until you melted the first time I hugged you.”

Mickey just gaped at him. “Seriously?”

“How many times have I gotten one or both of us out of our clothes since March? How many times have I offered to give you a massage? I can’t even count how many times I’ve tried to get you to take a bath with me.”

“Oh gods, I’m so oblivious. I didn’t even realize.” Mickey shook his head. “Did I hurt your feelings? It didn’t occur to me that I was worth flirting with until a couple weeks ago. I wasn’t doing it on purpose.”

“You unbelievable dork.” Emil kissed him. “Not worth flirting with? You’re _gorgeous._ You’re _brilliant_. You’re _so adorable_. How could I possibly _not_ want to flirt with you?” He cupped Mickey’s cheek. “You didn’t hurt my feelings, it was just exasperating. I decided to be as obvious as possible today.”

Mickey took Emil’s hand and kissed the palm. “I’m so glad. I’ve really wanted this. I was so scared you’d hate me.”

Emil pulled him into his arms. “Never. I could never hate you.” _Not when I’m so in love with you._

“I didn’t want to admit this, but Sara was picking on me about how obvious it was that I wanted you, and I started crying because I was so sure this could never happen.”

“I already made you cry, and we weren’t even together yet!” Emil teased. 

Mickey pulled back, laughing. “I’ll forgive you, _amore._ I’m sure you didn’t mean to.”

_“’Amore’_ means love, yes?”

“Yes. What does _‘miláčku’_ mean?”

“Sweetheart. _Láska_ means love.” Emil kissed Mickey again. “When you called me _amore_ earlier, I almost died. When you kissed my cheek, I almost died. Today has been a near-death experience.”

“We both lived to tell the tale.” Mickey leaned in to kiss Emil again. “When I was thinking about you, it occurred to me that even though I’ve had lovers before, and plenty of people have flirted with me, I’ve never felt so _liked_ by anyone.”

“Really? I like you a great deal. You’re my best friend.”

“Emil.” Mickey gently cupped his cheek. “You’re the best friend I’ve ever had.” He kissed him gently.

Well, it started out gently. Then became a lot less gentle. Until they both realized that the bench was going to be witness to serious action if they didn’t calm themselves down.

Emil laughed breathlessly, holding Mickey at arms’ length. “Stop being so attractive.”

Mickey laughed, too. “I can’t help it.” He took both of Emil’s hands and kissed his fingers. “And I’ve wanted you for a really long time.”

“Should we separate ourselves to each end of the bench like a courting couple?”

“No,” Mickey laughed. “We’re both grownups, we can control ourselves.” He looked into Emil’s eyes. “I really want our first time to be in an actual bed.”

“So do I.” Emil couldn’t help but smile. “Not that having sex in the gardens is out of the question for a later date.”

“But not on this bench, my legs are going numb. And I’m pretty sure Victor can point out better places to avoid being seen, he’s probably had sex in the gardens hundreds of times.”

“Really? The Crown Prince?”

Mickey chuckled. “Victor has always been a very popular companion among the young men of the court. Did that sound diplomatic?”

Emil almost choked on his laughter. “A ‘popular companion’? That’s hilarious.”

“When I first met him when I was 12, he had waist-length hair and was this combination of ethereal and sexy that drove everyone crazy.”

“Are you included in that?”

“No, ethereal didn’t do anything for 12-year-old me. It still doesn’t, and I’m not a big fan of long hair, either.”

“Really, good to know.”

Mickey made a face at him. “Were you planning to grow your hair out or start wearing fairy wings?”

Emil chuckled. “No, I just like learning more about you. I’ve never worn my hair long, it’s too fluffy. And I can reliably state that I have no desire to wear fairy wings.”

“Good,” Mickey laughed. “Any big turn-offs I should know about?”

“Long fingernails bother me. I don’t understand why women grow them for fashion, and seeing a man with long, dirty nails turns my stomach. I have turned men down for badly-kept nails before.”

After looking at his hands, Mickey held them out. “Mine are okay?”

“Of course.” Emil took his hands. “I’ve personally witnessed you devoting time to personal hygiene, including your nails.” He kissed his fingers. “Heavy drinking is also a turn-off.”

“No worries there, I don’t drink that much.”

“What about the vodka?”

“That was _one_ time!” Mickey laughed. “Seriously, though, I enjoy myself at parties, especially at home, but not a heavy drinker. No fighter should be.” He twined his finger’s with Emil’s. “Heavy drinking is a turn-off for me, too.” He smiled. “I’m usually indifferent on facial hair, but I really like it on you.”

“Oh, thank you. I do like it when you haven’t shaved for a few days.”

“Sara told me you said that. Did you really tell her that _in January?”_

Emil burst out laughing. “Yes. When you were getting a drink maybe? I told her I thought you were devastating, and she mentioned that you hadn’t shaved. I told her you probably shouldn’t.”

“You’re ridiculous.” Mickey just smiled at him for a moment. “My legs are seriously going numb. Let’s go back in.”

“This bench really is uncomfortable, the teenagers were right.”

They held hands as they walked slowly back to the palace, sharing loving smiles, swinging their arms like the young couple they were. No one paid them any attention, and they slipped back into the party without being noticed. Emil took champagne from the first waiter he saw and offered a flute to Mickey.

“I feel like we should toast to this, but I don’t want to say anything overly dramatic.”

Mickey laughed. “What like, ‘to new beginnings,’ or ‘to us’?”

“Those are so generic and so…adult.” Emil thought for a minute. “To not pining after each other anymore?”

“I’ll definitely drink to that,” Mickey agreed, and tapped their glasses together. “To not pining after each other anymore.”

They sipped their champagne, then got caught up in looking at each other. Emil was overwhelmed by how much more beautiful Mickey was with a genuine smile, with no shadows of sadness in his eyes. “Mickey…you didn’t want to kiss in front of people before, but…could I kiss you now?”

Mickey smiled. “Yes.” He lifted his chin to receive Emil’s kiss, and closed his eyes. 

Emil felt his heart flutter before he kissed him. “You’re adorable.”

“I’ve never considered myself cute. How am I cute?”

“You just are, I can’t explain it. The face you’re making right now, where you’re skeptical? It’s cute. When you’re rude and aggressive then come apologize for it, it’s the cutest thing.”

“I would have thought that was just annoying.” He shook his head. 

“No, there’s something about how you do it that’s charming.” Emil switched hands with his champagne to put his arm around Mikey’s shoulders. “I think our personalities are well matched.”

Mickey slid his arm around Emil’s waist. “I think so, too.” He leaned his head against Emil’s shoulder. “I’ve never been so comfortable with someone before.” 

Emil leaned his head against Mickey’s. “Same.” He kissed his hair. “How should we tell Sara?”

Mickey lifted his head. “I can’t decide. Part of me wants to just tell her, I don’t want her to find out because she spots us kissing or something. But part of me wants to pretend nothing happened and drive her _crazy.”_

“I love it.” Emil laughed. “I mean, obviously we want to be able to dance together tomorrow, so we have to tell her sometime, but in the morning we should just be vague.”

“Yes.” Mickey sipped his champagne. “Cruel but satisfying in the way you can only torture a sibling.” He waited for the current song to end. “Would you like to dance again?”

“Yes, I would.” He took both of their glasses and set them on the table against the wall behind them. “I would love to dance with you.”

It was a slow, romantic waltz, and they held each other close. Mickey couldn’t believe that a day ago, he was preparing himself for a life of heartbreak and misery as he lived with a man he loved but could never have—and now he was dancing with him, and thought maybe, just maybe, he could make it last forever.

“After this dance, do you want to sneak way? I’m less interested in dancing and more interested in being alone with you.”

Mickey smiled at Emil. “That sounds like an excellent idea. Do you see Sara anywhere?”

“No, why?”

“Because I’d like you to kiss me again.”

“Well, I would be happy to.” So he did. A few measures later, he spotted Sara coming in from the buffet accompanied by Mila. “She just walked in, we’re safe.” 

Chuckling, Mickey squeezed his hand. “We should leave together, but not holding hands.”

“Devious.”

Before the song ended, a sudden commotion drew their attention. “What’s going on?”

Emil shook his head. “I don’t know. There’s Sara.” He took Mickey’s hand and pulled him toward her.

People were pouring out the garden doors, babbling excitedly. Emil touched Sara’s arm to get her attention. “What’s going on?”

Sara noticed that Mickey and Emil were still together and smiled. “I have no idea. Let me listen.” She closed her eyes. She magically amplified her hearing and was immediately irritated. “I can’t think of a creative enough way to swear to express myself.”

Mickey looked at Emil and back to Sara. “What is it?”

“Some moron spread the rumor than I’m going to do fireworks. Come on, let’s go out in the garden. Probably the only person that can calm these idiots is Victor, and he’s been out in the dark with Yuuri for a while now.”

Mickey stood beside Sara and Emil in the milling crowd, until they spotted the Prince and his boyfriend coming up the stairs to the terrace. Victor seemed relieved that no one was dead, and he was hoping he and Emil could still leave in a few moments, when _another_ commotion started, this time with people coming out of the darkness of the gardens. He and Emil looked at each other, sharing their confusion.

“Unicorns? Seriously?” Emil asked Mickey as they took off into the gardens with Sara, Victor, and Yuuri. Sara produced a ball of light to illuminate the paths and they searched through the flowers, hedges and trees. There were people all over, looking for the unicorns or trying to avoid them. Both of them had seen unicorns before, at a distance, because Sara could call them, even if they wouldn’t let her touch them. Mickey was unimpressed, but as he’d mentioned before, ethereal didn’t really do anything for him. Emil had thought they were stunning and wished he could get some unicorn hair for a bracelet for his sister.

When they finally found the open door in the back wall of the gardens, Mickey was relieved. He was sure no one would force them to go hunt for unicorns _outside_ of the palace. Sara called an owl to search from the sky, and he managed to make his brain work enough to stand behind her so she wouldn’t fall while she was looking through its eyes. And when they determined that all of the idiotic white equines were off the palace grounds, Mickey discovered that he was _exhausted._ He was relieved that Victor was sending a cart to get them instead of having to walk around to the kitchen gate.

“Why are unicorns after Victor’s boyfriend?” he asked his sister.

“Victor found him sleeping on an altar in the middle of a frozen pond in the Old Forest, guarded by unicorns. He kissed Yuuri to wake him, and the unicorns attacked, but predictably failed because they somehow survive without brains.”

“What a romantic story,” Emil exclaimed. “That’s so cute. Is Yuuri a princess? Or, I guess, a prince?”

Sara shook her head. “He doesn’t know, he doesn’t have any memories. I feel slightly bad for them, but dude, I’m stoked that I have something to do while we’re here. I mean, I love relaxing, but this is interesting.” 

“Do they want you to break the spell on him?”

Sara looked at Mickey. “Yep. They’re a true-love-match, plus the love from the sleeping spell. It’s pretty gross how sweet they are.” 

“Is this a spell you can break?”

“Probably,” she answered. “But I have to do some research. I’ve been looking at them and it’s like the spell is in a different language. There are layers to it, too. I’ve done a standard sleeping spell, I’d recognize that with no issue, but this is just enough different that I don’t exactly know what to do.”

Emil looked at her. “Yuuri is clearly from another part of the world, I would have to assume a mage from his home set the spell.”

“Yes and no. Yes, that would account for the difference in the feel of the spell language, but it would still be the same spell. Kind of like how you know a cup is a cup no matter how it’s decorated. This is…different. It has a really unusual shine and texture to it, if that makes sense.”

“It makes _no_ sense.”

“That’s okay. It makes sense to me.”

“Oh good, here’s our ride.”

It was a small cart, and Sara climbed up on the bench with the driver. Emil and Mickey jumped in the back, happy to be driven, even if they were bouncing around like the potatoes this cart probably carried most of the time. Sara was chatting with the driver, who was amused by his late-night assignment. They had to go a little further down the paths to find a place where the horse and cart could turn around, but eventually arrived back at the palace and dragged themselves upstairs. Little glowing lights were placed around the sitting room—Mickey had never noticed them before but realized these must be the crystal lights that Sara had told him about. 

“Okay, I’m going to go dive into my bed.”

“That sounds like a really good idea,” Emil agreed. “Champagne and unicorn hunting aren’t the best combination.”

“Mickey, will you help me? My necklace is caught in my hair.”

“Sure.” He carefully untangled the gold chain from the fine hair at the base of Sara’s skull. “Do you want help with the laces on your dress?”

“No, this one has laces on the sides so I can get in and out on my own. I just didn’t want to rip all of my hair out.” Sara had a very tender head. Pulling hair really, _really_ hurt. She turned around when she felt the necklace pull free from her hair. “Thanks.”

Mickey put the necklace in her hand. He’d literally never noticed that Sara didn’t have long nails before, unlike his mother, aunties, and cousins. _Now I’m going to be paying attention to fingernails._ “Go to sleep, I’ll see you in the morning.”

Covering a yawn, she waved as she went into her room. She wouldn’t be able to see if Mickey and Emil went into the same one, but she was too tired to give a damn.

Alone in the room, Emil held out both hands and Mickey took them. He pulled him closer. “Come to bed with me.” It was too dark to see Mickey’s face clearly, and when he didn’t say anything, Emil added, “Just to sleep, if that’s all you want. I’m not ready to let you go yet.”

Letting go of his hands, Mickey slid his arms around Emil’s waist and rested his head on his shoulder. He sighed happily when Emil’s arms went around him. “I’m not ready for you to let go of me yet.” After a few moments, he raised his head. “I’d love to come to bed with you, but I’m exhausted, so it really will just be to sleep.”

Emil kissed him softly. “That’s completely fine.” He moved back a little. “The last two nights, trying to fall asleep in this huge bed, I couldn’t help but think about how much I wanted you to share it with me.”

“I would be happy to share it with you.” _To sleep in his arms… Finally. Finally._

Emil’s room was lit with dim moonlight, but neither of them was willing to light a candle. They slowly undressed each other, savoring the chance to slide hands over skin for the first time. It was more than Emil could ever have hoped for. He’d had plenty of lovers, but hadn’t had the opportunity for romance like this before. He was a romantic at heart, and loved the chance to show Mickey that he absolutely treasured him. 

Mickey was strangely shy when he was completely undressed, even though he had no reason to be. He looked down, but smiled when he felt Emil’s arms around him, and wrapped his arms around Emil’s waist. “I’ve wanted this for a long time. Just to feel you against me.”

“So have I,” Emil answered softly. Yes, they were naked, but this was so much more than sex. “Do you still want the right side of the bed?” They’d shared beds several times while traveling. It had been torture, but the best kind of torture.

“Yes, thank you.”

It was a little awkward as they walked around the bed to pull back the blankets. There were at least 8 decorative pillows on the bed that they scattered to the floor with soft laughter. Mickey climbed in first, and watched as Emil slid beneath the blankets. “Emil, can I..?”

Emil smiled and opened his arms. “Come here.”

So happy he couldn’t even express it, Mickey cuddled into Emil’s chest, and let out a sound that was part joy and part relief as his arms went around him. “Emil,” he whispered. “All I’ve wanted for months was to sleep with your arms around me.”

“I’ve wanted to hold you.” He kissed Mickey’s forehead. “Every night.” 

They were quiet for a few moments before Mickey had to speak. “Emil, this, between us. I- It can’t be casual for me. I-I don’t think I can let you go.”

“Casual? Mickey, I’ve already been practicing arguments for why you should let me get a dog after we retire.”

Tears instantly welled in Mickey’s eyes, and he clutched Emil tight. “I like dogs,” he whispered, voice choked with emotion.

“I’m so glad,” he whispered. “I don’t think I could let you go, either.”

“I know I’m hard to live with, but don’t give up on me, please.”

Emil squeezed him. “I don’t know how you missed that I’ve really enjoyed living with you for the last few months.”

Mickey laughed a little. “I’ve loved living with you. I hope we can just spend time together while we’re here.”

“I’m not letting you out of my sight.” 

“That could get awkward.”

“Don’t care.” When Mickey laughed, he kissed his hair. “It’s going to take me a little while to get used to you being mine.”

“I’m yours, _amore.”_ Mickey tried to suppress a yawn but failed. “I’m yours but falling asleep.”

“Kiss me goodnight?”

Mickey stretched up to share a sweet kiss with Emil. “Goodnight.” _I love you._

“Goodnight, _láska.”_


	5. In which we greet the dawn

Mickey came awake all at once, like he always did. Like most fighters did. And he immediately realized he wasn’t alone. He was still snuggled up to Emil, with his head pillowed on his chest, and an arm thrown over his waist. In his sleep, Emil had rolled onto his back, but still had his arm over Mickey’s, like he hadn’t been willing to let him go, even asleep. Emil was still breathing deeply and slowly, dead to the world. Mickey smiled and closed his eyes, savoring the moment. _First morning together. We’re still cuddling. But why the fuck am I awake at dawn?_

It really was early, the room was still mostly dark, just a hint of light coming in the window. Apparently, his body didn’t care that he’d been out hunting unicorns borderline drunk only a few hours ago. He had a hard time maintaining any irritation, though, because he was just so fucking happy to be in Emil’s arms that everything seemed great.

 _I’m in the arms of the man I love,_ he thought to himself, the thought itself making him feel light and buoyant. _In a little while, this man will open his eyes, and smile at me, and I’ll fall in love with him all over again._ Every time they’d been camping, sharing a room, or even sharing a bed, when Emil woke up, he gifted Mickey with the most beautiful smile, like he was so happy to see him he couldn’t hold it in. _I couldn’t understand why, before. But now…he loves me. I know it, even if he hasn’t said it yet. And gods above, I’m so in love with him. I’ll do whatever it takes to keep us together._

“What are you thinking so hard about, _miláčku?”_

Mickey looked up to Emil looking down at him. “You.” They both moved enough to share a kiss. “Good morning.”

“Good morning.” He kissed Mickey again. “Best morning I can remember in a long time.”

“Mhm,” Mickey agreed, kissing Emil’s chest. “But why are we awake?” He felt Emil chuckle. “I had too much champagne to be awake this early.”

“You didn’t drink that much.” 

Mickey chuckled. “It’s still early.”

“At least we’re facing the dawn together?”

Laughing softly, Mickey stretched up to give Emil another kiss. “That’s a little dramatic.” He could feel his eyes filling and chin trembling. “But dearest gods, I’ve wanted this so long.” _Don’t cry._

“So have I, Mickey, gods, since the day we met.” Emil shifted onto his side so he could wrap Mickey in his arms.

Mickey squeezed Emil as tight as he could for a moment, before relaxing just a little. “I couldn’t figure out why I was desperate for you to hug me in March, but the first night we slept in the same space, all I could think about was how good it would feel if you were holding me.”

“Did you realize that I touched you every day because it was obvious you liked it so much?”

“No, I didn’t. But now that I think about it, you did touch me sometime every day. Usually several times. And you’re right, I loved it.” He kissed Emil’s chest again. “I still love it.”

“I hope you know I’m going to be touching you a hell of a lot more now.”

Mickey laughed and moved so it was easier to kiss Emil. “You’d better.”

They were quiet for a few moments, warm in each other’s arms, before Emil stated, “I hope you don’t mind that I am intensely cuddly. Especially after sex.”

Mickey laughed softly. “No, I don’t mind. I like cuddling.” He leaned in for a kiss. “The only time I don’t want to be touched is when I’m sick.”

“You don’t like to be held gently while you vomit?” Emil laughed.

“No,” Mickey answered, just as amused. “Or when I have a cold. I just want fresh hankies and bowls of soup pushed near me and to be left alone.”

“That will be hard for me, I’m overly helpful when someone is sick. I’ll try not to annoy you.”

“I’m guaranteed to be an asshole, I’m going to apologize in advance.”

“If you hate being sick as much as I do, I won’t hold it against you. But according to my mother I’m a baby.”

“I’ll tell you if you’re being a baby. But I’ll take care of you anyway.”

“Thanks.” Emil ran his fingers through Mickey’s hair. “What are some things you like?”

“With a lover, you mean?”

“Yeah.”

Mickey considered for a moment. “Mmm, you can run your fingers through my hair any time.” He smiled while Emil did it again. “I love massages, that’s why I always turned yours down.”

Emil laughed. “I should have known.”

“I also do, actually, really enjoy sharing a bath. I love having my hair washed.”

“So, I’ve been torturing you.”

“Gods, yes.” He leaned in for another kiss. “What else?” He stretched, indicating that he was going to shift the topic to more intimate matters with his skin against Emil’s. “I like sleeping naked, as you might have noticed.”

“Mmm, yes, no problem there.”

“I love to be fingered,” he whispered, semi embarrassed. 

Emil hummed and squeezed him. “Do you bottom at all?”

“Not often. I like it, but it’s hard for me to relax enough to enjoy it. But I have to admit I’ve been fantasizing about you fucking me a lot lately.”

“Mmm, seems we’ve been having the same fantasy.” He kissed Mickey again, hands running over his warm skin. “Anything you really don’t like? I want to have a chance to discover everything you love, but don’t want to do something that you can’t stand.”

Mickey closed his eyes. “I—yes.”

Emil ran his fingers through Mickey’s hair. “It’s alright if you don’t want to talk about it now.”

“No, it’s okay, it’s just weird. I have a couple of hang ups that have ended things before they started.”

“Tell me?”

Opening his eyes to Emil’s smiling face, Mickey decided that if anyone would understand his quirks, it was probably Emil. “I don’t, I can’t, ah, from behind. I just, I can’t.”

Trust issues. “That’s fine.”

“What, really? I mean, if you really want, I can, I can try, but--”

“How much could I possibly enjoy something that you hate?” Emil gave Mickey a kiss. “No, Mickey, no. Knowing that you’re miserable would turn me off before we even got started.”

“Oh,” Mickey replied softly, relieved. “Thank you. That’s been a deal-breaker before.”

“He was an idiot.” He smiled when Mickey laughed. “Would you be willing to take me that way, though?”

“Oh, sure, if you like it,” Mickey answered, searching Emil’s face. “That position is good for you?”

Emil heard what Mickey wasn’t asking. “I don’t have any emotional reaction to it, and it can be really good for me.” He closed his eyes for a minute. “If we do it right, I can come untouched.”

“Gods, that’s hot. I’ve never done that.”

“It’s _amazing.”_ Emil ran his hand through Mickey’s hair again. “What else?”

“I don’t like pain.” He laughed at the look on Emil’s face. “No, not like that. _Any_ pain. Nibbles on ears, nips on the neck, anything. It just turns me off. Most people like a little pressure on their nipples, and I can’t stand it.”

“That’s easy enough to deal with. I don’t especially like my ears or neck bitten either. My ears are really sensitive.”

“Tongue?”

“Oh, gods, _yes.”_

Mickey chuckled. “I like that too. Is there anything you really hate?”

“You know how I hate dirty fingernails? I hate it when someone claws my back. I had a lover tell me that was a compliment, but all I could think of was how infected those scratches could get.”

“I hate that too. I won’t claw your back.”

“I like a light scratch, though.” He demonstrated the tickly, pleasant sensation on Mickey’s shoulder. “I like that a lot. Pretty much all over.”

“That does feel good. I like it too.”

“I also don’t want anything to do with feet during sex.”

Mickey knew the look on his face was the one he showed to the world when he thought something was incomprehensible (which his sister hated). “Why would feet ever have anything to do with sex?”

Emil laughed. “Your response tells me everything I need to know.”

“No, seriously, tell me about this. Purely out of sick curiosity.”

“I will never suck on your toes. Don’t even ask.”

“Oh, that’s gross. I mean, even if you’ve just scrubbed them, they’re still feet.”

“He definitely hadn’t washed his feet.”

“Ew.” Mickey shivered, disgusted. “Yah, no problem there. And my feet are too ticklish anyway.”

“So are mine.” As an afterthought, Emil added, “Toenails are even worse than fingernails.”

“Agreed.” Mickey waited a second. “Is there anything you really love?”

“I love to be touched, and I want your hands all over me.”

“What a hardship,” Mickey teased. He demonstrated his horror by running his fingers down Emil’s arm to squeeze his hand. “What else?”

“Hmm…I like to go slow when possible. Not that desperate sex isn’t fun, but I like to savor the experience.”

“Oh, that’s nice. I like that too.” Mickey leaned in for a lingering kiss. “I like to feel…I don’t know how to explain it.”

“Taken care of?”

“That describes it pretty well. I like to feel like I’ve taken care of my lover, too.”

Emil kissed Mickey, and deepened it, stroking his skin and moving against him. “I’d love to take care of you,” he murmured. “But we’re missing a key ingredient to sex right now.”

“We’ll have to take care of that later.” He kissed him again. “I want you, gods, so bad.”

“Want me to go down on you?”

Mickey groaned. “Gods, yes. I’d love to return the favor.” He’d _really_ love it.

Emil hummed into a soft kiss, before rolling Mickey onto his back and resting on top of him. “You’re so gorgeous, I’ve wanted to kiss every inch of you.” He started on his neck.

Tipping his head back, Mickey let out a breathy laugh. “And just yesterday, I was thinking I was nothing special.”

“You’re _very_ special.” He started kissing his chest. “Every time I think I’ve picked the sexiest part of your body I change my mind.” 

“Your ass does something to me,” Mickey panted out. 

Emil chuckled. “It’s available for your viewing pleasure at any time.” He smiled at Mickey’s giggle when he put is tongue in his navel. “Is there anything special you like with a blow job?”

Mickey felt himself flushing. “Gods, I never ask for it because you can’t say it without sounding like an asshole.”

Emil stroked his sac. “My mouth?”

Covering his embarrassed face with his hand, Mickey whispered, “Only if you want to.”

“You’re not an asshole,” Emil chuckled before sliding his tongue over the velvety skin. “Tell me if you want me to do something different.”

Within moments, Mickey was sure he’d completely lost his mind. Emil clearly wanted him to feel ‘taken care of’ because this was amazing. He tried to say Emil’s name, but it just came out as a moan. _It’s been years, I’m going to die._ “That’s, that’s so good, Emil.”

 _Mickey is ridiculously easy to please,_ Emil thought to himself. After a few very thorough moments, he turned his attention to Mickey’s hard cock. He was the perfect size, big enough to be really satisfying but not so big as to be uncomfortable. “I’ve been wanting to do this for a while,” he murmured before running his tongue up the underside of his cock. “In front of the fire, on the fur rug in my room at the inn.” He licked across the head, tasting Mickey’s pleasure. 

“Oh, oh gods,” Mickey gasped out. “Please, please, Emil,” he begged. This was already the best oral sex he’d ever had, and his dick wasn’t even in Emil’s mouth yet.

“I don’t mind if you put your hands in my hair,” Emil offered, licking around the head. “It’s okay if you pull it.” He punctuated that by taking Mickey into his mouth. He slowly went down as far as he could before torturing him with his tongue as he rose up. “Slow?”

“Uh-huh,” Mickey panted. “But I don’t know how long I’ll last.” It had been way too long since he’d had any kind of sex. 

Emil chuckled. “Good.” And he proceeded to take Mickey apart with his lips and tongue.

Mickey just laid there in pleasure-induced bliss, absently noting that Emil was _extremely_ talented. He somehow knew exactly what he liked. When he pulled off, he’d focus on his balls again and he couldn’t help but call out. He was glad Sara was on the other end of the suite, because he was incapable of being quiet during sex. 

Emil, for his part, was thoroughly enjoying himself. He new he was good, and hearing Mickey yelling was exciting. He put maximum effort to making this man he loved lose his mind. He clearly liked more tongue than suction, and that was easy enough to do. When he could tell he was getting close, he doubled his efforts, and received Italian babbling and Mickey’s hips rocking into his mouth, something he loved. A much better compliment that grinding under-nail filth into his skin. He didn’t even pull his hair, just cradled the back of his head. _He’s sweet._

Mickey wasn’t sure what he was actually saying, and he came before he could warn Emil and hoped he didn’t mind. Definitely the best blow job he’d ever had, he wasn’t sure he could feel his body.

Slowly releasing Mickey from his mouth, Emil grinned at the sight of his beloved absolutely limp from his orgasm. “Good?”

“Uh-huh,” Mickey panted out. “Get up here and kiss me.”

Happy to oblige, Emil crawled up the bed to lay on top of him, and kissed Mickey thoroughly. He felt Mickey wrap heavy arms around him and tangle their legs together. It was a really lovely kiss, and seemed to go on forever, and Emil felt every ounce of Mickey’s love. _I know he loves me, even if he hasn’t said it yet._

Breathless, Mickey pulled back, gasping. “That was unbelievable.” He closed his eyes and smiled as Emil kissed his jaw. “Just give me a minute.”

Emil chuckled. “Take your time.” He happily rested his head on Mickey’s shoulder. _I love his man._

As Mickey’s breathing slowly returned to normal, he became intimately aware of how much Emil needed attention. He ran his nails lightly up his back, getting a pleased sound and a happy back-arch for his efforts. “Your turn, _amore.”_

“Mmm, only if you want to.”

“Trust me, I want to.” He pushed on Emil’s shoulder, and he carefully moved off Mickey to flop onto his back. “What do you like?” Remembering what he’d said, Mickey ran his tongue around the fragile shell of Emil’s ear.

“Ah, um,” Emil started, breathing hard just from that. “Can you, oh gods, Mickey, I can’t, I can’t--”

Chuckling, Mickey kissed from his ear down to his collar bone. “Hmm?”

Emil speared his fingers through Mickey’s hair. “Can you kiss the insides of my thighs? I love that.”

“Of course.” That sounded very sweet. “Anything else?” He started kissing down Emil’s _incredible_ chest. 

“I do like my nipples bitten, just a little,” he gasped out.

“Oh, really?” He kissed one, then swirled around it with his tongue before biting down gently.

“More, yes, like that,” Emil started, then moaned when Mickey gently stroked his cock. “Mickey-”

Mickey repeated the tender abuse on the other side, before slowly kissing and licking his way down Emil’s stomach, which was a thing of beauty. “Gods, you’re fucking sexy,” he groaned out.

Emil gently placed his hand on Mickey’s head, stroking his hair. “Is this okay? I won’t pull your hair.”

“Of course.” He moved down Emil’s body, and far enough back on the bed to look up him from between his spread legs. “Like this, _amore?”_ Mickey gently ran his lips over the inside of Emil’s right thigh before dotting small, gentle kisses along the fair skin. He’d never had a lover ask for this before, and he loved it. _What a wonderful way to show him that I love him._

“Yes,” Emil whimpered out. It felt really good, soft and tickly, and made his toes curl. He only asked for this with lovers he was attached to, it was very intimate. “Mickey, gods.”

Mickey kissed his way up his right thigh before starting on the left. He stroked the underside of Emil’s thigh with soft fingers and got a moan in response. _I love him so much,_ Mickey thought to himself. _So very much._ He licked his way up to Emil’s cock. “You look gorgeous like this.”

Emil panted. “Oh, oh gods, please, Mickey--” 

He kissed up his cock, steadying him with his hand, before swirling his tongue around the head. He knew he was good at this, and wanted to, literally, blow Emil away. Wrapping his lips around him, he slowly slid down to take him to the root.

With a shout, Emil put his hands back on Mickey’s head, trying not to grip his hair. “Oh, oh gods--”

Mickey pulled up enough to breathe before swallowing Emil down again. He slid both hands under his hips to gently push him up into his mouth. He did it again and again, listening to Emil beg and sob. Eventually he had to let his jaw rest and licked every inch of him. Emil was good to his word and hadn’t pulled his hair (which was a huge turn off). He repeated the torturous pleasure over and over again, until Emil’s body went taught and he came hard. Mickey didn’t have any problem with swallowing, and he felt like it made the experience better for his lover. As Emil slowly relaxed, he kissed his way up his body before pressing a soft kiss to his bottom lip. “Good?” he asked, mimicking Emil’s earlier question.

“Mickey, holy fuck,” Emil gasped out. He reached for a kiss and got one. “You, ah, I don’t have the words in this language.”

Mickey laughed softly. “That says enough.” He kissed Emil again, deep and full of love. “Let me move and we can cuddle.”

“Okay,” Emil answered softly. As soon as Mickey was back on his own side of the bed, he wrapped himself around him and pressed his face into his neck. When strong arms went around him, Emil sighed happily. This was required to really feel ‘taken care of’ in his opinion. Mickey was gently running his fingers through his hair. “That feels nice.”

“Holding you feels nice,” Mickey responded softly. “You’re amazing.”

Emil kissed Mickey’s neck. “So are you.”

As they drifted in warm happiness, the clock struck 6:00. “Oh gods, it’s still so early,” Mickey groused. “Want to go back to sleep for a while?”

“Mhm,” Emil murmured, already half asleep. “Sounds good.”

***

Emil woke first this time and enjoyed a quiet moment in the arms of the man he loved. Judging from the light coming in, he figured it was around 8:00, later than they usually slept on the road. He wasn’t sure what part of the palace grounds this wing was in, but it was very quiet outside, aside from lovely birdsong. Sara had told him she put a charm on the windows so no bugs would come in, and that was the best spell he’d ever heard of, because his one true fear in life was wasps. No one _liked_ wasps, but he was terrified of the flying jerks.

 _“Amore?_ You awake?”

“Mhm.” Emil wiggled so he could share the pillow with Mickey. “Did I wake you up?”

“Huh-uh, but you were tense, so I figured you were awake. What were you thinking about?”

“Wasps.”

“Huh?”

“I’m scared of them. I’m glad they can’t come in the room.”

Mickey laughed softly and kissed Emil. “They do suck.”

Emil shivered. “I hate them.” He smiled. “What are you scared of?”

“Sara when she’s angry.” He grinned when Emil laughed. “No, really, I’m not a fan of spiders.”

“Not my favorite either, but I typically relocate them instead of killing them.”

“You can do that all you want, I’ll let you know there’s one in the bathtub by screaming.”

“Okay, you can kill wasps for me.”

“It’s a deal.” Mickey sealed it with a kiss. “In Italia we have these giant furry spiders that make me want to climb on a chair and cry.”

“I made Eliška knock down a hornet’s nest at my house.”

“Your little sister?”

“She made fun of me for days.” He paused. “No, the first time you meet her, she’ll tell you the story. So, years.”

Mickey laughed again. “When do I get to meet your family?”

“This winter? You could come stay with me.” Mickey had an unreadable look on his face. “What is it?”

“I-I think that would be a good idea. I think, I think I need some time away from Sara.”

Emil gently stroked Mickey’s cheek. “I think you probably do.”

“I need to let go of what happened, and I can’t do that when I’m worried about her.”

“I can understand that. And I’m selfishly happy that I’ll have you all to myself.”

Mickey smiled. “Me, too.” He scooted closer so Emil could put his arms around him. “I never pictured myself with a man, y’know.”

“Does that bother you?” Emil felt himself flush, heart pounding, utterly terrified. Without realizing it, he’d tightened his arms around Mickey.

“Shh, stop, I’m not leaving you, Emil.” He kissed him with all the love and passion he felt. “No, that’s not what I meant.”

Emil went limp with relief. “Oh.”

“Let me finish. I had always just assumed that after I retired, I’d marry some pretty Italian girl my mother liked and have a few kids and it would all be really normal. But, honestly, if I’ve learned anything from this career, it’s that I _cannot_ spend the rest of my life with someone that I’m constantly scared will get hurt.”

“Like your fears with Sara.”

“Right. And, intellectually, I know she can take care of herself. An ordinary woman, or even a man? No. I know now that I couldn’t live that way. I was so close to the breaking point on the way here that I was barely sleeping. You were keeping me sane by being so relentlessly cheerful.”

Emil laughed. “I like ‘relentlessly cheerful,’ I think that describes me well. To be fair, being with you makes me very happy.”

“Me too.” Mickey kissed him. “With you, though, I’ll never have to worry. I mean, I’ll always be guarding your back, but you are my equal, or my better, with weapons. You have amazing reflexes. You have the weapons I understand, and I can predict what you’re going to do. I’ve worked with Sara for years and we’re a good team, and with other mages in school, but it’s not the same has being back to back with another swordsman in a fight.”

“Magic is less predictable, that’s true.”

“And I know I can trust you on a really deep level, because you’re a knight. You took the same vows of honor, protection, and loyalty I did. I know you’ll never betray me, for a thousand reasons, but also because of that vow.”

“I know that’s true of you, as well.” Emil kissed Mickey softly, lovingly.

“If I’m honest with myself, it could only have been you that I would want to spend my life with. You’re everything I could ever want or need. You’re perfect for me.” Mickey was annoyed that he’d started crying. “Gods, I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be, _miláčku._ You don’t have to be strong with me.” He held him tight. “You’re perfect for me, Mickey. Great, now I’m crying,” he laughed. 

“I can’t help it,” Mickey complained. “You make me emotional.” 

“Same.” Emil pulled the sheet up to wipe their eyes and noses. “Please don’t scare me like that again.”

“Gods, I’m sorry, _amore,_ I didn’t realize how it would sound. Trust me. I’ve been thinking about retiring with you, too.”

“Oh, good.” _Gods, I love him so much._ “As long as I can get a dog.”

Mickey chuckled and gave him a kiss. “As long as it’s not a little yappy, whiny dog like my Auntie Carlena has that bites my toes when I’m not wearing shoes.”

Emil laughed. “No, I like big dogs.”

“Great, it’s a deal.”

“Can it sleep on the bed?”

“Don’t push it.” Mickey waited a second while Emil was quiet. “Of course.” 

“Can we get two so the first one doesn’t get lonely?”

“If I say no, you’ll give me some adorable pitiful look and I’ll say yes, so I’ll just say yes now.”

“Oh good. I can save my sad puppy eyes for another time.”

“I’m sure they’ll be very effective.” Mickey smiled. “Unless you want a pet spider.”

Emil laughed. “You’re safe, I don’t like them _that_ much.” He kissed Mickey, then kissed him again. “Mm, this is nice. Waking up together.”

“Mhm. I’m starting feel the urgent need to get out of bed, though.”

“I’m glad we’re on the same page.” 

They both sat up, and prepared to get out of bed, when Mickey asked, “Hey, ask me.”

“What?”

Mickey crawled over to Emil’s side of the bed. “Ask me, I’ll say yes this time.”

Understanding dawned on him, and Emil asked, “Share a bath with me?”

“I’d love to.”

***

“This is amazing.”

Emil smiled, but didn’t open his eyes. “Mhm.”

Mickey lifted a languid hand from the water to blow bubbles into the air. “I should have taken you up on a bath sooner.”

“You really should have.” Emil kissed the top of Mickey’s damp head. “I think you liked me washing your hair more than you liked sex.”

“Hair-washing is a very close second to sex.” Mickey smiled as Emil tightened his arms around him. “So far, this is the best bath I’ve ever had.”

“Mm, I have to agree.” He kissed Mickey’s neck. “I’m borderline in love with this bathtub.”

“Right? It’s huge. Did you see the one in Sara’s bathroom?”

“It’s big, but I couldn’t handle that much pink looking at me.”

“I completely agree. Even my mom thought it was too pink.”

“How did your dad feel?”

“He’s colorblind, he didn’t care.”

They were content to soak in snuggly silence for a long time, happy to be together (and in hot water, in Mickey’s case). The water was slowly cooling, and both of them were starting to get pretty hungry, but neither wanted to suggest being out of physical contact with each other long enough to get out of the tub.

“Mm, Emil, this is amazing, but I’m starving.”

“Gods, me too, I didn’t want to say anything.”

Mickey laughed and reluctantly sat up. “It should still be early enough for breakfast.”

“Oh good.” Emil waited for Mickey to step out of the tub before standing up. “Gods, you’re so gorgeous.”

With a surprised smile, Mickey kissed him softly. “Thank you. You’re a work of art.”

“Stop.”

“No really, you are the most beautiful man I’ve ever seen.” Mickey started gently drying Emil’s fair skin. “You’re tall, muscular but not beefy, perfectly proportioned, and a joy to look at.”

“You’re silly.” Emil took the towel from Mickey to dry his hair. 

“Nope, just observant.” Mickey was drying himself when he had to issue a warning. “Please don’t snap the towel at me, I don’t think it’s funny.”

Emil wrapped his arms around him. “Of course not.” _Mickey got picked on at school because he’s easy to goad into anger._ “We’re a little bit older than that.” He felt Mickey relax. “What a way to ruin the romance of a nice bath.”

Mickey smiled and relaxed. “Thank you, amore.” _Gods, I love him._

“Want to get dressed?”

“I’d rather just stay naked with you, but clothes are probably required.”

Chuckling, Emil pulled away. “See you in a minute.”

“Do you think you can walk away without giving me a kiss?” Mickey asked, mock-severe.

“You’re right, I can’t.” He cupped Mickey’s jaw and kissed him _very_ thoroughly. “Now, I’ll see you in a minute.”

Mickey just stood there, watching him walk into his room for a long moment, dazed. “Damn.”

Eventually Emil wandered into Mickey’s room, where he was pulling sandals out of his wardrobe. “I wish I had sandals.”

“We can get you some,” Mickey offered. “You can even leave them here if you want.”

“That would be nice, thank you.” He watched Mickey walk toward him, smiling. “Happiness suits you, Mickey.”

He grinned. “It’s all you, _amore.”_ He took both of Emil’s hands, and went up on his toes to kiss him. “Let’s get breakfast.”

“Should we wake up Sara?”

“Huh-uh. I have a better idea.”

“Oh?”

Mickey knew he was blushing. “It’s almost sickeningly romantic, but would you like a picnic breakfast in the gardens? Not many people will be out there this time of day, we’ll have privacy.”

“That _is_ romantic. I’d love to.”

They walked down the halls, their fingers loosely linked. A few people were out and about, but they were uninterested in two young men dressed in day linens instead of court suits. Mickey noted that Emil was wearing blue again, and it really was a good color for him. “Is blue your favorite color?”

“It is,” Emil answered with a smile. “What’s yours?”

“I don’t know. I like blue, but I also like purple a lot.” He looked at Emil. “I’ve been told I can wear any color, but it’s been so long since I bought new clothes that I really only have a few things, mostly in those colors. And black.”

“You really could wear any color. You should get a new wardrobe since I did.”

Mickey laughed. “I was thinking that last night. That waistcoat I wore is probably five years old. I’m surprised it still fits.”

“You looked very handsome in it. But now I want to see you in other colors.”

“I guess we’ll be here long enough to justify getting new clothes. Even my casual clothes are kinda worn out.” He looked down at his faded tan linen pants and white shirt. “Okay, I really do need to get new clothes, these pants are old enough they’re too short on me.”

Emil laughed a little and smiled. “What colors would you _not_ wear?”

Mickey gave him the aggrieved look that he was so familiar with. “Pink.”

“You’d actually look really nice in pink.”

“No.”

“Not, like, baby pink, but a darker pink.”

“No.”

“Actually, baby pink would be good, too.”

“No.”

Emil couldn’t contain his amusement over Mickey’s extreme disgruntlement. “Do it for me?”

“No.” Mickey looked at Emil. “Those are the eyes, aren’t they, gods, stop.” He couldn’t help but laugh at the dramatically pathetic look on Emil’s face. “Fine, but I’m not promising I’ll buy anything in pink.”

“I knew I could convince you.” Emil looked around. “Where are we?”

“Service hallway. We can go down to the kitchens and ask for breakfast.”

“Won’t we be bothering them?”

Mickey smiled. “Probably, but they’ll never say anything, because we’re not jerks.”

“Oh.”

No one on the kitchen staff at that moment spoke the common tongue, but Mickey’s Russian was very good, if not as good as Sara’s. In short order, they had a hamper stuffed with breakfast treats and were shooed out of the kitchen by laughing cooks.

“What were they laughing about? Could you understand them?”

“They were teasing me about wooing a sweetheart I’d clearly already been to bed with.”

Emil blushed. “Oh.”

They emerged from the servant’s corridor into the morning sunshine of the herb garden. Emil looked around, smiling. “This is very similar to my mother’s herb garden. Hers would be this big if she had her way.”

“I think you mentioned she had a really big garden.”

“She has a gift with plants.” Emil followed Mickey around a hedge an into the public gardens. “Everyone in my family from my mother’s side has some type of ‘gift’.”

“Really? What are some of the others?”

“My aunt’s is embroidery. She can create a pattern mentally and make it perfectly the first time, completely symmetrical and everything.”

“That’s crazy. My mother loves embroidery but follows patterns.”

“I told you my grandmother could talk to spirits. My oldest brother is a healer, my next brother can tame any animal, they just trust him instinctively. Eliška is an herbalist, she can just tell how much of each ingredient she needs to make a cough syrup or bruise potion. She can pick up any plant and figure out what it’s good for or if it’s poisonous. My little brother is an artist. I’m hoping he can go away to school for it, he’ll be a master.”

“That’s amazing.” Mickey pushed aside the hanging branches of a shady willow tree. “Perfect!” He tugged Emil into the cool, green shade. They were right near an ornamental fish pond that had more lilies and frogs than fish. “Is your talent patience for stubborn Italian men?”

Emil chuckled. “Absolutely.” He helped Mickey spread the blanket that had been tucked into the top of the basket. 

Mickey gave him a tiny kiss. “Weapons?”

“Yes. No one else in my family has ever had any aptitude for fighting at all. Not even with each other as children.” Emil settled on the blanket and watched Mickey sit down. “I got in trouble for picking fights with my entire childhood, but I wasn’t a trouble maker, I was just good at winning.”

Mickey laughed. “You only get in trouble for fighting if you win.”

“That’s true. Unfair, but true.”

Mickey started unpacking the picnic. “Y’know, there’s an art school in Italia that my cousins went to because it’s in fashion to dabble in painting when you’re looking for a rich husband, but it’s a real school, I bet your brother could go there. My parents would be close by if he needed anything. He’s 12, right? I think I even have cousins around his age in Grosseto he could maybe make friends with.”

“Really? I don’t know how much tuition my parents can afford. I would help, of course, but that’s still a consideration.”

Mickey paused, looking up from setting food on the blanket. “My parents are loaded. By virtue of being your brother, he’s _my_ brother. We’ll help.”

Emil just stared at him for a long moment. “Really?” 

Mickey moved so that he could use his fingers to wipe the unreadable expression from his beloved’s face. He whispered, “I’m in this for life, Emil. There’s only you.”

“There’s only you,” Emil whispered, nodding. “I feel like I should argue with you, but I can’t. Not when you’re looking at me like that.”

“Don’t argue with me, I want to do this.” He kissed Emil very softly. “You can come meet my parents after we spend time with yours. They’ll _adore_ you. ‘Relentlessly cheerful’ is just what they’ve always wanted for me.”

Emil laughed breathlessly. “Okay.” He took Mickey’s hand from where it was gently cupping his cheek and kissed his fingers. “Thank you, _miláčku.”_

“Let’s see what the ladies gave us for breakfast.” Mickey scooted away just a little. “Oh, these are fried pies, I bet this flask is sweet tea.” He poured the fragrant drink into glasses. “It’s sweetened with peaches and sugar, try it.” He handed the glass to Emil.

“This is good. I suppose the pies have peaches?” 

“Probably. Peaches are in season.” Mickey unwrapped crispy oatcakes, boiled eggs, soft cheese, crusty bread, honey, butter, and a little salt cellar. “These are good picnic breakfast foods, but I’m partial to blinis.”

“I had eggs and ham the last two days, but I’ve had blinis when I’ve been to Rus before.” 

“How often have you been to Italia?”

Emil helped himself to a pie before answering. “Only twice.”

“I can’t wait to take you to all of my favorite places. There’s a little restaurant down near our beach house that does things with fresh fish that are unbelievable, and our area has dozens of vineyards. There are beautiful places to go walking that I’ve always thought would be romantic if I had a boyfriend and was at home at the same time.”

Smiling, Emil leaned over their food to give Mickey a kiss. “We’ll have to go walking there, then.”

“It’s not as nice in the winter, but we did talk about taking next summer off.”

“I would _love_ to take time off to lounge on a beach with you. I was thinking about that yesterday.”

Mickey’s cheeks were flaming. “I found the idea, uh, inspirational when I woke up from my nap.”

Emil cracked up laughing. “I wondered why you were so relaxed.”

“I don’t know have much beach experience you have,” Mickey started, embarrassed as hell, “but sex on the beach is not a good idea.” 

“Personal experience?”

“Sand gets everywhere you don’t want it.”

“I see.” Emil spread butter on a slice of bread. “Sex outside is always a challenge.”

“I haven’t had a lot of outdoor sex.”

Emil looked down for a moment, biting his lip. “I’ve had _a lot_ of sex outside. It’s kind of a thing. For me.”

Mickey saw that he was embarrassed, but also worried. “Some of those romantic places to walk would also be romantic places to have sex.” He watched Emil relax. “How did that become ‘a thing’ for you?”

“When I was mostly working as a caravan guard, there was a lot of camping involved, so most of my, ah, liaisons occurred outside, and I discovered that I _really_ enjoyed that.”

“Really?”

“Really.” Emil was relieved that Mickey wasn’t weirded out. 

“We’ll definitely have to find better places to have sex in the gardens than the fairy clearing, then,” Mickey answered, smiling. 

“Any unusual locations you’ve had sex?” Emil asked, still blushing.

“Other than the beach? Not really, we usually stuck to the dormitory at school, we were all 2 to a room, so it was easy to kick your roommate out. When I was home from school on breaks, if someone was staying with us that was, ah, available, they’d just sneak to my room.”

Emil laughed. “I shared my room with my brothers, so that was never an option.”

“Spoiled rich kid,” Mickey answered, pointing to himself with his tea. 

“I have my own house, now, but I haven’t ever actually had sex in it.”

Mickey grinned. “Oh, good.” He sipped his tea. “Is it just empty right now?”

Emil shook his head. “My oldest brother is staying there. He just recently came home from a healing school where he was learning advanced surgery. He’s planning to move to the new house and workshop the village is building for him this fall.”

“Convenient.”

“It really was,” Emil agreed. He was quiet or a few moments, just watching Mickey. “I like seeing you like this.”

Mickey smiled. “Like what?”

“Smiling and relaxed.”

“I haven’t felt this, I don’t know, _okay_ , in a long time.”

Emil leaned over and kissed him. “I’m glad.”

As they were finishing breakfast, the bells rang 11:00. “We should probably go back inside and torture Sara.” Mickey leaned over and gave Emil a quick kiss. “The party tonight probably starts at 6:00 or 7:00, so Sara will want to go to Evgenia’s house around 4:00 to set up for the fireworks. We can take our party clothes with us and change there.”

“Alright,” Emil replied, helping Mickey pack up the basket. “What does the set-up entail?”

“Magical fireworks are a combination of real explosives and illusions. The main supplies Sara keeps here, and she orders the explosives and has them sent here at the beginning of the season. The supplies will get carted over this afternoon and we’ll be completely useless as Sara tells more gifted people how to put stuff together and yells at us to get out of the way and stop helping.”

Emil laughed. “I see. We’re going to serve a very important function.”

“Before Sara and I got so famous, I helped put things together at whichever house we were working at, but now there’s an entire group of palace servants that do it for her and I’m mostly there to annoy her.” Mickey stood and offered a hand to Emil. “Tonight, we’ll just get to dance, eat great food, drink champagne, and watch the fireworks.”

Standing with Mickey’s assistance, Emil took the chance to wrap his arms around him and kiss him for long moments. When he pulled back, Mickey drew him back in. He started to feel time drift away from them as they kissed. _I love this man. I’m going to tell him tonight. I just have to find the right moment._

When Mickey pulled away, he smiled into Emil’s eyes. “Let’s go.” _I have to tell him how much I love him. Tonight._

Outside the door to the suite, Mickey stopped. “What did we do to take up so much time today?”

“Went running?”

“That works.” Mickey winked. “We’ll just play it by ear.” He gave Emil a quick kiss then pushed open the door.

Sara was entertaining Victor and his boyfriend, Yuuri, over brunch when they came in. Mickey could tell she was searching for clues as to what had happened, but he’d already assumed his usual unhappy and aggrieved expression. In fact, he wasn’t concerned about Victor and Yuuri having brunch with Sara at all, but it would definitely look like he cared. The expression was second nature after so many years of being perpetually obsessed with Sara’s safety and grinding unhappiness.

“Good morning, brother dear! Where have you been?”

Mickey dropped down into one of the chairs in front of the hearth and sensed that Emil was standing behind him. 

“My body didn’t care that I stayed up late drinking, it told me dawn was the best time to wake up,” he complained.

“Same.” Emil was hardly able to contain himself. “We went running on the bridle paths.”

“Ambitious,” Victor laughed. 

Sara looked intensely suspicious. “And that took from dawn until 11:15?”

Mickey assumed a look of discomfort and wondered what Emil was doing. _Probably winking at her or something cheeky like that._ He listened to Sara talk to Victor about her clothes for a few moments before he just had to laugh. He immediately tried to stop himself but couldn’t.

“Why are you laughing?” Sara looked indignant.  
“You’re not going to make a grand entrance with the Prince on your arm, Sara, you’re going to be there early setting up for the fireworks. It doesn’t matter if your dress clashes with Victor’s tunic.” He was still laughing a little. “You also have so many gowns with you that you have to put a charm on your luggage to make it weightless so that a horse can carry it. There’s no way you could _possibly_ not have a dress that goes with Victor’s outfit.”  


“Hmph.” She looked haughty. “Some of us like to look sophisticated for parties.” 

“Admit it, you just want to have a fashion show with Victor to try on all of your new dresses.”

“Hush.”

He continued to laugh while Victor talked and could hear that Emil was laughing too. 

“I’d _love_ to have a fashion show!” Victor enthused. “But I more or less promised to teach Yuuri more dances, and it’s almost noon. The party is at 6:00, and even being fashionably late, that doesn’t give me that much time for dancing lessons _and_ looking perfect.” 

“I never said I wanted to have a fashion show,” Sara quipped, which really just made Mickey laugh more. “What’s gotten into you this morning?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about. I pick on you all the time.”

Victor and Yuuri looked at each other. “I’m going to go teach this man to dance, I’ll see you this evening. Don’t you dare bring weapons, this is a party, you’re not working.”

Mickey saluted him. Knowing Emil, he was giving them a thumbs up. They watched Victor and Yuuri leave the room, but Mickey could almost feel Sara staring at them. Making sure he looked put-upon, he turned back to his sister. As expected, she was staring. “What?”

“How was your night? Did you have fun dancing?”

Mickey looked up at Emil, who looked down at him. They both shrugged and looked back at her. “Yah, it’s been a long time since I danced.”

“I’ve never danced in a ballroom,” Emil added. “It was cool.”

“Really.” Sara looked unimpressed. “It was just ‘cool’.”

They shrugged at each other again. “Yah.” Mickey stood up. “Did you have fun? I saw you dancing with a couple different people. And your dress was pretty fantastic.”

“Thank you. And you’re sure nothing else happened besides dancing, which was just ‘cool’?”

Mickey gave her his most annoyed face. “What are you talking about?” He tried to sound disgruntled but was having a harder and harder time holding back laughter. 

“Was something supposed to happen?” Emil asked, sounding reasonably confused but Mickey could hear that he was about to crack up.

Sara looked from Mickey, to Emil, and back to Mickey, looking extremely annoyed but also concerned. Mickey couldn’t help but smile, and was starting to laugh when Emil grabbed him in a hug from behind. As he put his hands over Emil’s he felt him kiss his neck.

“I knew it!” Sara shrieked. She watched them laugh for a minute before she asked, “Did you really go running this morning?”

Emil erupted with a fresh torrent of laughter and Mickey shook his head while dramatically mouthing the word “no”. 

“Liars.” She knew her face was showing her absolute delight. “I’m so happy.”

“Me, too.” Mickey closed his eyes for a moment. 

“So am I.” Emil kissed Mickey behind the ear. “So happy.” He pulled away. “And I know you want to have an in-depth sibling conversation, so I’m going to go take an inordinately long time in the loo.” He looked at Mickey, silently asking him a question.

Mickey understood and nodded. _Yes, you can kiss me in front of Sara._ Emil pressed a soft kiss to his lips before heading for the bathroom.

Sara waited approximately one second before throwing her arms around her brother. “Mickey!” When she let him go, she grinned at the smile on his face. “Finally.”

He knew he was smiling like he’d never smiled before. “Finally. Oh, gods, Sara.” 

“You love him, don’t you?”

“So much.” Mickey shoved her a little. “I really love him.”

“Have you told him yet?”

Mickey shook his head. “No, I’m waiting for the right moment. He found the perfect place for our first kiss, I want my confession to be just as nice.”

“Where did he kiss you?”

“There’s this pretty little fairy garden off in the east part of the grounds, I’d never seen it before. It was extremely romantic.”

“Aw, that’s adorable.” Sara sobered. “You told him, right? Do you feel better?”

“Yah, I told him. I do feel better.” He smiled again. “He loves me. He hasn’t said it yet, but I know it.”

“You’re sure?” 

Mickey smiled at her concerned face. “Yah. He was already making plans to retire with me.”

“That’s cute.” 

“He finally got me to take a bath with him.”

Sara laughed. “It’s about time.” 

Mickey sat down in one of the arm chairs, and Sara dropped down on the sofa gracefully. “I, I think I’m going to go home with him this winter for a while.”

“That’s great.” Sara smiled at him. “I’ll ask Mila to come with me to Italia, so you don’t have to guard me on the way there.”

“Oh, that’s a good idea. I’m sure she won’t argue with winter in Italia instead of Rus.”

“Right? And Mom will love having someone new for Midwinter festivities. Are you going to come home before we head out for the spring?”

Mickey nodded. “Yah, I want Mom and Dad to meet Emil. Do you think we could take the summer off next year? I miss being at the beach. And I’m exhausted from being miserable for three years.”

Sara’s eyes widened. “I never thought those words would come out of your mouth. Yes, we can take time off. Even if we didn’t have plenty of money, Mom and Dad would be taking care of us.” She grinned. “They’re going to _love_ Emil.”

“They are.” Mickey couldn’t help the goofy smile on his face. “He’s amazing.”

“Give me details.”

Mickey gave her is best ‘what the fuck’ face. “What kind of details?”

“How is he in bed? You _did_ have sex with him, right?”

“There’s something wrong with you. But, to answer your question, no, because we were lacking necessary ingredients.” Mickey was trying to hold back a smile and could tell he was the color of a ripe tomato. “He’s, ah, really talented.”

Sara laughed. “Nice.”

“And snuggly. He’s so sweet.”

“Aw.” She shoved him. “He’s romantic, isn’t he? He seems that way.”

“So far, yes. I can’t wait to take him home and show him all my favorite places. There are a few spots where I used to go to be alone that I always thought would be a very romantic spot to take a boyfriend or girlfriend, and I want to take him there. I want to kiss him at sunset on the terrace under the roses.”

“That’s so cute! I like this side of you, all sappy and gross.”

“Shut up.” 

They both looked up as Emil walked back into the room. “Did I give you enough to time to talk about me?”

Mickey and Sara both laughed. “I’m never going to be done talking about you,” Mickey answered. He waited while Emil sat in the other arm chair. “We were discussing how much our parents will love you.”

“They so will,” Sara agreed. “They’re, um, loud.”

“So loud.”

“And so Italian.”

Emil laughed. “I can’t wait to meet them.”

Sara changed the subject. “So, I thought we’d go to Evgenia’s around 4:00?”

“That’s what I figured,” Mickey replied. 

“I’m actually going to go over the university in a little bit, I want to pick some brains about the spell on Yuuri. I sent a message to Evgenia when I got up to see if it was okay if I brought guests from school, I’m just waiting for her answer before I head over.” She gave them a look. “I hope you can think of something to do while I’m gone.”

“We could play cards,” Mickey suggested.

“Browse the library?” was Emil’s contribution.

“Ha ha. Anyway, would you bring my dress and shoes with you?”

“Oh, sure.” Mickey gave her a smart-ass look. “What color are you wearing? Wouldn’t want to clash, sister dear.”

“Oh, shut up. So, I wanted to show off my new clothes.” She flipped him off. “It’s coral.”

Emil looked at Mickey. “What color is coral?”

“I have no idea,” Mickey answered, baffled. “What color is coral?”

Sara rolled her eyes. “It’s a bright pink that’s a little bit orange.”

“Sure.” Mickey looked at Emil. “You wear pink, I’ll wear orange.”

“Stop.” Sara shook her head. “I know you don’t own any orange, Michele Crispino.” She thought for a second. “Do you actually have anything pink?” she asked Emil.

Emil laughed. “No, no pink. The tailor tried to convince me to get a pink silk shirt, but I declined, mostly because it was too expensive.”

“You’d look _gorgeous_ in pink.” Sara’s eyes sparkled. “You have the perfect coloring for it.”

“I’ll take it under consideration.” 

There was a knock at the door, and Emil went to answer it. “For you, Sara.” He handed her a letter.

She opened it. “Oh good, I can invite some people from the university to the party tonight and she’ll see us around 4:00.” She looked at Emil. “She’s really sweet, you’ll like her.”

“I’m glad, but who is she?”

Mickey laughed. “She’s Victor’s aunt. We’ve been going to parties at her house since we were children. And no one ever actually calls her ‘Evgenia,’ we all call her Aunt Jenny.”

“Oh, I see. I’ll be on my best behavior.”

“Good, since you’re always so rowdy and inappropriate,” Sara teased. “Anyway, I’m going to go change and pack up my things for you to bring to the party. I’m going to put you both to work so bring your nice clothes with you.”

“Got it.” Emil gave her a thumbs up.

“Why are you changing? That dress is really nice.” 

Sara smoothed the silk skirts. “This is a strictly indoor dress. It would get filthy outside, and it would show since it’s white. The dying process for this pattern is ridiculous, and I don’t want to ruin it. Besides, I’m going to be working when I get to Evgenia’s, so I planned to wear something more practical.”

“Oh.” Mickey looked at his own clothes. “I need new clothes.”

“You really do.” She stood. “Anyway, I’ll see you a little later.” She turned to go but stopped. “Wait, where were you guys this morning?”

“We had breakfast in the gardens,” Emil answered, smiling. “It was lovely.”

“That’s adorable. Okay, now I’m going to go.”

Alone in the room, Mickey smiled at Emil. “Anything you’re just dying to do?”

“I’ve been ‘dying’ to see if we both fit on the sofa.”

Mickey smiled, surprised. “Oh, let’s find out. You lay down first.”

Emil stood and kicked off his shoes. He gathered the decorative pillows at one end and stretched out. “Comfy.” He held out his hand to Mickey.

He took a second to take off his sandals, then carefully crawled onto the couch, tucking himself between Emil and the back, which forced him to be half on top of Emil, which disturbed neither of them. “Mm, I think we both fit.” Mickey sighed happily when Emil’s arms went around him.

“We do.” Emil smiled and kissed the top of Mickey’s head. “I was thinking this would be comfortable.”

“Mhm. This couch is good for snuggling.”

“I was picturing a rainy evening with a fire, you cuddled up to me, just talking.”

“Oh, I like that. It does rain here in the summer. Sara sucks at predicting weather or I’d ask her when it will rain.”

Emil chuckled. “It’s fine. Cuddling with you on a sunny afternoon is good too.” He squeezed Mickey tight. “I’m very reluctant to let you go.”

“So don’t.” Mickey lifted his head enough to kiss Emil’s neck. “I’ve spent a lot of time over the last few months thinking about how much I wanted your arms around me. And I don’t want to let you go, either.”

“Good.” _I am so desperately in love with this man._

Mickey was quiet for a few minutes, content to just rest against Emil and feel his hands on his back. “I seriously don’t want to do anything else this afternoon.”

“That’s fine with me.”

Emil cracked open an eye when Sara opened her door. “That does look more practical than the white silk dress.”

Mickey adjusted enough that he could look at her. “You look very Italian.”

Sara looked down at her outfit. It was a very simple, everyday Italian outfit. Blue linen skirt that ended just above her ankles, white cotton blouse with extensive floral embroidery and puffy sleeves, sandals. “Is that a compliment?”

“I think so,” Mickey answered. “How are you going to fix your hair?” It was just braided over her shoulder with a blue ribbon.

“Aunt Jenny has maids who can help me.” She looked them over. “Are you planning to stay on the sofa all afternoon?”

“Mhm,” Mickey answered.

“Please don’t have sex on it.”

They both laughed. “We won’t,” Emil promised. 

“I’m going to pretend I can trust you. See you later.”

They were quiet for a long time, content just to relax with each other. After so much time spent tense with unhappiness, Mickey was nearly comatose with the relief of not being worried about much of anything. Ever so often, Emil would run his fingers through his hair, and he’d hum happily. It wasn’t just that Emil was his lover, he was his best friend. Everything sweet thing he did was just out of affection, not a desire to get him in bed. Even if the words hadn’t been said, they loved each other, in so many ways, and Mickey was just so _happy_ that he didn’t really know to express it. He smiled when he felt Emil kiss the top of his head. 

“You’re easy to keep happy,” Emil murmured, laughter in his voice. “Just pet you occasionally and let you lay on top of me, like a house cat.”

Mickey chuckled. “Maybe.” He stretched. “I don’t know if catnip will do anything for me, though.”

“Will you bite me if I touch your stomach?”

“No,” Mickey laughed. “But if you tickle me, I’ll fight back.”

Emil laughed softly. “I’ll keep that in mind.” He kissed Mickey’s hair. “Do you want to move to the bedroom and take a nap?”

“What a great idea.” He carefully maneuvered himself off the sofa. 

“Alright.” He grinned when Mickey pulled him off the couch. “How will we wake up?”

“Oh, I thought I was going to take a nap and you’d just stay awake and rub my back,” Mickey teased.

“Uh huh.”

When they walked into the room, they discovered three things. One, the room had been cleaned some time between them leaving and Sara waking up; two, a bottle of what looked suspiciously like scented oil was on the night stand on Emil’s side of the bed; and three, there was a tiny, glowing creature that looked like a bird fairy floating above the night stand on Mickey’s side of the bed.

“Oh, Sara left us an alarm clock,” Mickey laughed. “Hello, little friend.” He smiled when she made a tiny, liquid chirp. 

Emil was staring. “What..?”

“Oh, you’ve never seen her, have you? She’s one of Sara’s elemental guardians. Somehow, she always knows exactly what time it is, no matter where we are. Yesterday, Sara was probably too tired to ask her to wake us up for evening court. It takes magic to summon her from whatever plane of existence she lives on.”

“Wow,” Emil breathed. “Hello,” he whispered to the little feathered woman. She chirped. “And Sara can talk to her?”

Mickey nodded. “She can talk to most magical and uncanny creatures. And ghosts.”

“Ugh, ghosts.”

“Can you wake us up at 3:30?” Mickey asked the little creature. She chirped and fluttered her wings. “Thank you. I bet there’ll be fruit and cakes when we wake up, you can have some.”

Emil watched her feathers puff up and sparkle, showing her pleasure. “She’s so cute.”

“She is.” Mickey turned to Emil and gave him a long, loving kiss. “You’re cute, too.”

“Thanks.” He ran his hands along Mickey’s sides under his shirt. “Off?”

“Mhm,” he replied, pulling his shirt off before he helped Emil out of his. “I always look at this scar and laugh that it’s from a goat not an enemy.”

“That goat _is_ my enemy.” He started on Mickey’s trousers. “He’s so mean.”

Mickey unfastened Emil’s pants, feeling a little thrill that he could see and touch and kiss this gorgeous man. “I can’t believe I couldn’t tell you were flirting with me when you showed me that cut right here,” Mickey commented, running a gentle finger over the top of his thigh, right next to his crotch. “How did I miss that?”

“I was sure you’d figure it out,” Emil laughed. “Nope. You just looked uncomfortable and annoyed. I knew you wanted to touch me.”

“Gods, yes. I fantasized about sucking your cock for days after that.” Mickey pulled back the blankets and they both crawled into the fresh sheets. 

“I can’t believe you couldn’t tell I was flirting with you last winter.” Emil settled against the pillows and pulled Mickey against him. “I was _really_ trying to get you in bed.”

“I was so afraid you were trying to get Sara in bed I didn’t notice,” Mickey answered ruefully. He cuddled into Emil’s chest.

“You couldn’t tell I was gay?”

“Huh-uh. I was too stressed out. I kept trying to figure out if you were flirting with Sara, and if she was flirting with you. Eventually I decided you weren’t after her. It never occurred to me that you were trying to flirt with _me.”_

“Oh, Mickey.” Emil kissed his forehead. “When I got you drunk, and you started smiling and laughing I decided that I would pursue you to the ends of the earth if it meant I got to kiss you.”

“That’s one of the sweetest things I’ve ever heard,” Mickey answered softly. He moved a little so he could kiss him. 

“The whole time I was at home I was annoying my family talking about you.”

“Now I feel like an asshole for making you wait so long.”

Emil laughed. “Don’t. I knew it was only a matter of time.” He kissed Mickey again. “We’re together now, that’s all that matters.”

“If it’s any consolation, the entire time I was at home, I was obsessing over you.”

“At least I know you were thinking about me,” Emil laughed before kissing him again. 

“Every minute. I didn’t even know why I was obsessing over you, I didn’t realize it was because I was attracted to you until after we saw each other again and you hugged me. I was _really_ oblivious.”

“Even to yourself.” 

Mickey nodded against Emil’s shoulder. “I have a hard time with emotions. I promise I’ll try not to bottle things up, but you might have to kick my ass sometimes when I’m being an asshole for what seems like no reason.”

“I’ll try to be patient, then. I want to talk about how I feel when I’m upset. I was raised that way.”

“I’ll listen, I promise. I know this will always be work, for me, to keep another person happy. I hope now that I’m not so miserable that it’s easier.” He still felt guilty, but not _nearly_ as guilty.

“You’ve done a very good job of keeping me happy since March, and you weren’t even trying. I like you the way you are, Mickey. I don’t want you to change for me.”

“You just keep saying wonderful things to me.” He kissed Emil. “You make me happy. Just being with you is enough.”

“I’ll do my best to keep you that way,” he whispered. 

“You won’t have to try very hard. Just keep being you.” He kissed Emil again. “I don’t want you to change, especially not to try to please me.”

“Alright.” Emil yawned. “I wasn’t even that sleepy until we got into bed, now I feel like I haven’t slept in a week.”

Mickey chuckled. “Me, too.” He kissed Emil’s shoulder. “Sleeping with you is perfect.”

“How so?”

“Like you said, you’re ‘intensely’ cuddly. I love that.” He yawned. “I like being held. Best thing about being with a man.”

Emil laughed softly. “If I get too cuddly let me know.” He kissed Mickey’s forehead.

“No such thing.” 

They were quiet for a while, content to hold each other. Emil was still awake when Mickey dropped off. “I love you,” he whispered, trying it out. He’d never said it in the common tongue before. _“Miluji tě.”_ It sounded perfect in Czech. 

He suspected it would sound perfect in Italian, too.


	6. In which it's party time

“Mickey, I can’t believe that after this many years, you’re still doing this wrong. Just get out of the way.”

Mickey glared at his sister. “I’m doing exactly what you told me to do.”

“No, I told you that red went in that pot.”

“This is red.” He pointed to the markings, which were in a language he couldn’t read, in bright red on the side of the canister.

“No, that’s silver. Just because the words are _in_ red doesn’t mean the powder is red.”

“That’s stupid.” Mickey throttled down his irritation. “It would help if these were all labeled in the same color and language. And a language I can actually _read.”_

“They’re sourced from different merchants.”

“How can _you_ tell what they say?” Mickey put the canister of apparently silver powder on the ground. 

“Anyone who does fireworks learns how to read the names of colors in every language you can think of.”

“Which, obviously, I have not done.” Mickey put his hands on his hips. “Just a little patience, that’s all I’m asking for.”

Sara sighed and rolled her eyes. “I do this every year, where I think you’ll be useful. Why _haven’t_ you learned how to read these?”

“I don’t know, because I’m not gifted that way?” Mickey closed his eyes and shook his head. “I swear, I’m doing the best I can.”

“Next time I’ll ask Guang-hong to translate the labels to the common tongue, how’s that?”

“Why hasn’t that ever been an option before? You’ve been yelling at me for six years. No, seven now.”

Sara couldn’t help but laugh, which startled a laugh out of Mickey, and drew Emil’s attention. Mickey was being especially reasonable today, something she hadn’t expected. _Being with Emil is good for him._ “I don’t know, I never thought about it.” She smiled watching Emil squeeze Mickey’s shoulder, then her brother leaning against him. “I think you’re a good influence, Emil, he hasn’t gotten pissed and stormed off once.”

He put his arm around Mickey’s shoulders, happy to feel the other man relax against him. “No, it’s just because he took a nap.”

Mickey laughed. “That’s probably part of it.” He smiled when Emil kissed his temple.

“We’re pretty much done, why don’t you guys go get something to drink and chill out until it’s time to get dressed?”

Mickey and Emil shared a look and shrugged. “Okay,” Mickey answered. “I’m not going to argue with that.”

Sara walked over to them as a more gifted fireworks-installer took the canister of silver powder. “We’ve got maybe five minutes of work left, then I’m going to go get dressed, too. At least six people will book me for fireworks for the rest of the month after the party, but those set ups aren’t as grand. But _nothing_ compares to the Midsummer’s Eve display at the palace. Best part? There are other mages doing them so I can watch.”

“How much do people pay you for fireworks?”

Sara winked at Emil. “Trade secret.”

Mickey rolled his eyes. “A lot. Like, a ridiculous amount.”

“I have to make back what I spend on supplies and labor.”

“And buy new clothes.”

Sara winked again. “And jewelry.”

Mickey shook his head and rolled his eyes again. “Let’s go get lemonade, _amore.”_

“You call him _‘amore’?_ That is _adorable.”_ Sara giggled. “What do you call Mickey?”

 _“Miláčku,”_ Emil replied, smiling. “Sweetheart.”

“That’s so cute. You’ve been a couple for less than a day and you’re already totally gross.”

“Shut up. The next time you’re with someone I’ll be just as mean.”

Sara just gaped. “I’m going to hold you to the me being with someone part.”

Mickey gave her his most disgruntled scowl. “Don’t push it.”

Emil laughed. “Lemonade. Let Sara believe you’ll finally leave her alone long enough to date someone.”

“You can’t take it back,” Sara argued. 

“Fine,” Mickey sighed.

As they approached the house, Emil spotted a small table set up under a shady tree sporting a pitcher and glasses. “I wonder if it’s actually cold?”

Mickey put the backs of his fingers against the pitcher. “It is. I love magic.” He poured them both a frosty glass and they seated themselves in the wicker chairs softened with embroidered cushions. “Aunt Jenny is probably already getting dressed and fixing her hair. I know you saw her when we got here, but seriously, when you look at her, you’ll think she’s Victor’s mom. I saw her with Queen Vasilysa before she died, and they could be twins. The Queen had silver hair like Victor, though. Still, they look so much alike. You’ll never believe she’s old enough to be Victor’s aunt, either. She has this, I don’t know, ageless thing about her. So did Queen Vasilysa.”

“So does Victor,” Emil commented. “I have no idea how old he is. He could be 15 or 45, I can’t tell.”

“I think he’s 27? I’m 23, so yah, he’s 27.”

“I would never have guessed.” Emil smiled. “Your hair is a mess.”

Mickey ran his hands through it. “I know. But I brought stuff to fix it with me. I can fix your hair, too, if you want.”

Emil looked perplexed but curious. “I’ve never thought about taming my hair.”

“I don’t want to tame it, just, sort of, direct it.”

Laughing, Emil agreed to the experiment. “Alright.”

“While we’re in Moskva, I’ll probably get a haircut, there’s a very nice barbershop that Victor’s valet told me about when I was like, I don’t know, 18, that I go to when I’m here.”

“Oh, I should get mine cut, too. Since you think it’s wild enough it needs to be ‘fixed’.”

Mickey set his lemonade down to lean forward. “I hope you know I’m teasing you, Emil. I love your hair. Please tell me I didn’t hurt your feelings.”

“Of course not,” he answered, taking Mickey’s hand. “I know you’re teasing me, my feelings aren’t hurt.”

“Oh good.” Mickey relaxed. “The transition from friends being as mean to each other as possible for fun to being in a relationship and not hurting anyone’s feelings is confusing.”

Emil laughed. “Mickey, you already know me. You don’t have to do anything different. If it hasn’t hurt my feelings yet, it’s not going to. If you _do_ hurt my feelings, I’ll tell you.” He set his lemonade down to lean closer. “I don’t want you to treat me differently, I like the way you treat me already.”

Mickey shook his head. “I’m sorry. It’s been a while since I was involved with someone. I don’t know how things work anymore.”

“Don’t apologize, _miláčku._ This would be different with me than the last person even if you had a different relationship yesterday. They’re all different.” He took both of Mickey’s hands. “Just be the same person you were this morning. Treat me like I’m your best friend. But you can kiss me any time you want now.” 

“You’re ridiculous and I’m so glad you’re mine.” Mickey leaned just enough closer to kiss him lightly. 

“I’m very happy to be yours.” He leaned back and grabbed his lemonade. “If I hurt your feelings, please tell me, I don’t want to.”

“My knee-jerk reaction to my feelings being hurt is to be a total dick.” He sighed. “But I know you would never hurt me on purpose, so I’ll try not to lash out.”

“You’re more sensitive than you let on,” Emil commented softly with a smile. “I never want to hurt you.”

Mickey smiled. “I know. You’re a sweetheart. You’ve apologized every time you’ve even suspected I was upset. I appreciate it.”

“My goal is to keep from being turned into a toad, that’s a strong incentive to be nice.” He grinned when Mickey laughed. “Do you suppose she could make it so you could kiss me and I’d be human again? That way if we made up, I wouldn’t have to stay a toad.”

“No. How are you supposed to make up with him if you’re a toad? You won’t be able to talk.”

They both looked at Sara. “But what if I’m a really cute toad and he falls for me?” Emil asked.

“There are no toads that cute.”

“Don’t worry Emil, if you break my heart and she turns you into a toad, I’ll make sure you have a nice swamp to live in.”

“Thank you. I think.”

“I’m going to go get dressed, you should too. Guests will start arriving in less than an hour. It’s not like we have to be downstairs exactly on time or anything. But take this as a suggestion that you _not_ have sex right now.”

“Why are you so obsessed with my sex life?” Mickey asked, annoyed, while Emil laughed. 

“Just go get dressed, gods above.” Sara walked toward the terrace of the big house.

“She was trying to get details out of me earlier, too. She’s damaged in some way.”

They wandered into the house and found the room Jenny had given them to get dressed. The house was beautiful and whimsical, but tasteful at the same time. The room they had was painted a very soft yellow and the furnishings were all painted white. Emil noticed the most interesting feature right away.

“Is that a really huge chair, or a really small couch?”

“I don’t know,” Mickey answered, looking at the mystery seat. “Wanna see if we both fit in it?”

Emil laughed. “Of course.” He sat down. “Oh, it’s really comfortable.”

Mickey carefully squeezed in next to him. “Okay we fit, but not well,” he laughed.

“Here, what if I sit more sideways, and you put your legs over mine,” Emil suggested, scooting into the corner of the chair/couch.

Mickey turned his body to be more in the corner and put his legs over Emil’s lap. “Oh, this is more comfortable.” He put his arm around Emil’s shoulders and felt his arm go around him behind his back. “I don’t know if it would be a long-term solution for not having enough chairs, though.”

“I like being snuggled up to you,” Emil answered with a smile. He lifted his chin, asking for a kiss.

One soft kiss became two, then three, then they lost count. This wasn’t foreplay. It wasn’t going anywhere, and neither of them wanted it to. It was just love, shared between them. 

After a long time, Mickey pulled back. “We probably need to get dressed.” Instead of getting up, he kissed Emil again.

“We do need to get dressed,” Emil murmured. “I’d rather stay up here with you.”

“Me too. But I do want to dance with you. We don’t have to stay late.”

“Alright.” He waited while Mickey got out of the giant chair gracelessly before he stood up. “What did you bring to wear?”

The clothes they’d brought were mysteriously wrinkle free and hanging in the wardrobe. “You said you wanted to see me in a different color, so I brought this.” It was a deep wine-colored tunic with rich floral embroidery in wine, plum, and gold. “Is it okay?”

“It’s beautiful.” 

Mickey reached back into the wardrobe and pulled out Emil’s tunic. “Oh, this is gorgeous. I can’t wait to see you in green.” It was a deep emerald green with darker embroidery of leaves, stems picked out with green beading. It had a deep v neck, with the opening accented with beading as well. “Did this cost a fortune?”

“Yes, but it was too pretty not to buy it. It didn’t even need to be tailored.”

“Let’s wash up before we get dressed,” Mickey suggested.

They dressed carefully, making sure calloused hands didn’t snag delicate silk. Mickey thought Emil looked like a forest god but decided that was too ridiculous to say out loud. “Okay, sit at the dressing table and I’ll do your hair.”

“Since you think there’s something wrong with it looking like I combed it with an eggbeater.” 

Mickey laughed. “I love your hair. But after building fireworks displays, it’s pretty wild. Sit.”

He carefully brushed it out, then used a wooden comb to arrange the blond strands around his face. “That looks great.” He grabbed the hair cream and worked a little into Emil’s hair, then combed it back into position. “Here, look.”

Emil turned around on the stool and looked in the mirror. “Oh, wow, I didn’t know it could look like this. Thank you, _miláčku.”_ He was very caught up looking at himself for a minute. “You’ll have to show me how to do this so I don’t look like a disheveled mess before I meet your parents.”

Laughing, Mickey kissed him lightly on the cheek. “Sure. You can also look like a fairytale prince for the Midsummer ball in a couple days. Move so I can tame my own hair.”

He stood and watched Mickey sit on the little satin-covered stool. “How did you learn to do this?”

“I went to parties my entire life, my parents are rich and love entertaining. We traveled extensively and were hosted by royalty and nobility. Sara and I learned how to make ourselves presentable from the servants that took care of us.”

“I can sail a boat, catch fish, and milk cows,” Emil offered, laughing.

“Also useful,” Mickey laughed. He stood up and gave Emil a kiss. “You look fantastic.”

“Thank you. So do you. You look like a fairytale prince.” _I love him so much._

“Thank you, _amore.”_ He took Emil’s hand. “I’ll probably know at least two-thirds of the people here tonight.”

“Oh, you’ll have to introduce me.”

Mickey stopped on his way to the door. “Can I introduce you as my boyfriend?” 

Emil smiled. “I’d be disappointed if you didn’t.”

Relieved, Mickey smiled and kissed him. “Good.”

The ballroom was already getting crowded when they went downstairs. Expensively dressed people were coming in the huge front doors, greeted by Evgenia as they entered. Emil thought she looked like a queen herself, in a beautiful sapphire gown, with her long hair pinned up softly and cascading over her shoulder. Mickey was right, it was impossible to know how old she was. She smiled and lifted her hand in a short wave as they moved into the crowd.

“Look at the chandelier,” Mickey suggested. “Isn’t it pretty?”

“It is,” Emil answered, looking at the celestial arrangement of glass and lights. “Is it magic?”

“Yes. When the room is empty, you can see that the same arrangement of the sun, moon, and stars is a mosaic on the floor.”

“Oh, I hope I get to see it sometime.” 

“I’m sure you will, we’ll probably be over for tea a couple times this summer. Sometimes Aunt Jenny also has private concerts for her friends, and we come for those, too.”

The dancing hadn’t yet started as they moved through the room. Mickey spotted Victor and Yuuri near the garden doors, and Chris and with the tall man from the previous night just ahead of them. Chris’s tunic had so many sequins it was probably illegal in some countries. “Who do you think that tall guy is that’s with Chris?”

“I’m assuming his boyfriend,” Emil answered. “I think I saw them dancing together last night.”

“There’s no way Chris has a boyfriend,” Mickey argued. “He’s just as much a ‘popular companion’ as Victor is, if not more so.”

“Victor has a boyfriend,” he pointed out. “Maybe Chris also has a magical boyfriend.”

“Well, I guess stranger things could happen.” He spotted Sara. “Oh, that’s coral.”

Emil looked. “Mystery solved.” He tugged Mickey in her direction. 

“Oh no, Mickey, we totally clash,” Sara complained. “Don’t stand too close to me.”

“Shut up.”

Emil kissed her cheek. “Coral is a good color on you.”

Sara curtseyed. “Why, thank you.”

“Sara, who’s that guy with Chris?”

“His _boyfriend,”_ Sara answered in the move dramatic voice Mickey had ever heard. “Can you believe it? _Three years._ He’s just been pretending to sleep with Victor for _three years.”_

“I was right.” Emil refrained from gloating. 

“And it’s _true love._ All this time, I wondered why the two of them were so surrounded by magic when neither one of them has a trace of mage talent, and now I know it was that they both were destined to find their true loves. And they were both _charmed_ to find them, so there was no chance they’d miss them.”

Emil wondered if he and Mickey were true loves. It certainly felt that way. But he was afraid to ask.

“Isn’t predestined true love really rare?” Mickey asked, sounding skeptical.

“Extremely rare. And it’s both of them. All this time I thought they’d eventually marry each other.”

“Wouldn’t that be complicated?” Emil asked. “They’re both heirs, correct? And they wouldn’t have children.”

“Totally complicated,” Sara confirmed. “But that blond boy over there-” she pointed, “-is Victor’s heir, his cousin Yuri. And Chris has a younger brother who is _his_ heir.” She gave them a wry look. “It’s up to me to produce an heir for the Crispino line, I guess.” _I hope Mickey really is in love with him. And Emil is in love with Mickey. It’s so easy to think you’re in love when it’s this new. I don’t even know if they consider themselves boyfriends._

“Watch, you’ll only have girls.”

Emil laughed. “I have four siblings to produce children for my family. I’m off the hook.”

Sara laughed. “Lucky you.” She shook her head. “Mila wishes she could come travel with us, but her brothers are such idiots that she’s the heir to the estate.” She pushed down the sadness that always accompanied that thought. “She hates being a lady, too. I feel bad for her.” She forced herself to smile. “But I’m going to have her ‘guard’ me on the way home this winter since you’re stealing Mickey.”

“Where is Mila?” Mickey asked.

“One of the mage students I invited is a friend of hers, she’s talking to her. You should see her dress, it’s fantastic.”

The musicians began tuning, and Emil looked around, eyes wide. “I’ve never heard music like this.”

“It’s the room,” Sara explained. “It’s designed to ring, like in a temple. The band is in a balcony above us.”

“Amazing.”

The first song was a Russian dance that none of them knew, so they moved to the side of the room and took champagne from a passing waiter. The room was packed, but people were gradually moving into the gardens and making more room for the dancers. Several people were going into an adjoining room, which Emil assumed was a buffet. He was actually pretty hungry, but decided not to say anything until after they’d had a chance to dance.

“What time do you think you’ll do fireworks?” Mickey asked his sister.

“Like 10:00? 10:30? You know everyone will be gone by midnight.” 

Mickey looked at Emil. “Aunt Jenny’s parties never go late. She’s a morning person and doesn’t like to stay up all night. It’s a real social faux pas, but she doesn’t care. She hosts brunches more often than balls.”

“I see. I take it brunch is between breakfast and lunch?”

“Yah, it’s a high society meal for people who sleep in and have tea at 3:00.”

“Oh, there’s Mila, do you want to meet her?”

Emil smiled. “Of course.”

Sara waved, and the graceful woman joined them. “Mila, this is Emil, the guy who I told you was traveling with us.”

“Nice to meet you,” answered with a smile. “You’re a knight?”

He nodded. “Yes.”

She looked him up and down. “I think I could take you.”

Mickey laughed at Emil’s look of what-the-hell. “I’m sure you could.” He squeezed Emil’s arm. “I told you Mila could kick both our asses if we fought her at the same time.”

“She’s put Yuri over her head on more than one occasion,” Sara added.

“He’s scrawny.” Mila winked. “And exceptionally annoying.”

 _For a woman who hates being a lady, she’s extremely feminine, but also going to kick my ass. How confusing._ “I’ll try to avoid making you angry,” Emil promised.

She winked. Her eyelids shimmered with the same teal color as her skirts. “You’d better.”

The next dance was a sort of courting dance from Deutschland. Mickey expressed disappointment. “I can’t dance to this one.”

“Why not?”

He looked at Emil. “It requires skirt swishing. Neither of us has a skirt.”

“Well, dance with me,” Mila suggested. “I can interrogate you.”

“Great.” He looked at Emil. “Is that okay?”

“Of course, if Sara will dance with me.” He held out his hand.

“Sure, _I_ can interrogate _you,”_ she laughed.

Emil swept the dainty mage onto the floor. It was closely packed, but she was very light on her feet. 

“Mila won’t really interrogate him. She’ll just pick on him for various things until he looks really ticked off. By then, the song will be over,” she explained.

“Are you going to interrogate me?”

“Yes. Emil, please tell me you’re serious about him.”

“I am. I care about him very deeply.”

“Define ‘deeply’.”

He chuckled. “I want to spend the rest of my life with him.”

“He’s completely lost his head over you. If you leave him, I think it would break him.”

“Gods, Sara, I can’t even imagine leaving him. He’s everything to me. I don’t know if I can live without him.” He waited to speak until the clapping-and-skirt-swishing was over. “If he left me, it would break _me.”_ She still looked skeptical. “It’s impossible to be with someone and never hurt them, but I would never hurt Mickey on purpose. He’s my best friend.”

Sara smiled. “I want to trust you. You’re a good person and I like you a lot, but I’m protective of Mickey. He’s so much more sensitive and emotional than people realize. It’s easy to hurt his feelings.”

“I know, I can see that.” He waited for twirling to be done before asking her a question. “Sara, this seems stupid to ask, but is it true love?” He knew he was the color of a sunset.

“No, sweetheart, it’s not. True love is _incredibly_ rare.” She smiled. “That doesn’t make it any less special. It doesn’t mean you can’t be ‘the one’ who is perfect for him. _And never leaves him.”_

“I won’t leave him, _láska,”_ he promised. “I’d marry him tomorrow if he were to ask.”

“Okay, I believe you.” 

At the end of the dance, Emil bowed as Sara curtseyed. He offered her his arm. “Thank you for dancing with me, even if it was an interrogation.”

Sara laughed. “You’re a good dancer. Next time I’ll just ask you for embarrassing details about your sex life that I don’t expect you to answer.”

Emil knew he looked uncomfortable but laughed nervously anyway. “Thanks. I think.”

 _“Amore,_ dance with me now?” Mickey asked, coming from behind him and placing a gentle hand on his back. 

“Yes, of course.” He turned in Mickey’s arms and led him onto the floor. “I like this dance.”

It was a popular Francais gliding dance, and Mickey was happy to have Emil’s arms around him. “Mila wanted to know everything about you. I think she’s actually worried about my heart being broken.”

“Sara did, indeed, interrogate me. I tried to promise her than I would never abandon you, but I don’t know if she really believed me.” He redirected them when they bumped into another couple. “I won’t. I won’t leave you.” Emil hoped his face showed his sincerity. “I need you, Mickey.” ‘I love you,’ was on the tip of his tongue, but it didn’t seem right to share it with the entire ballroom.

 _“Amore,_ I believe you.” He moved close enough to kiss him. “I know you’re serious. I am, too. I need you, Emil.” He took a deep breath and looked down to keep from tearing up but failed. “Damn it, I hate crying.”

Instead of following the next steps of the dance, Emil pulled Mickey into his arms, and spun them around to leave the dance floor. “Don’t cry, _miláčku.”_ He stood by the wall and just held Mickey tight.

Mickey took a few deep breaths. “Sorry, just, you’re so important to me.” _Gods, I love you so much, Emil._ “When I think about how much I’ve needed someone like you, and for you to be mine, it’s so overwhelming.” He looked up and gave him a teary smile. “You make me so happy. I didn’t realize how unhappy I was until I met you.”

“Mickey,” Emil whispered, and kissed his forehead. “I never want you to be unhappy.”

After a few more moments, Mickey moved away just a little. “I’m okay. Do I look like I was crying?”

“Your eyes are a little red, but otherwise, no.”

“Oh good.”

“This is completely unromantic, but I’m starving.”

Mickey laughed. “Let’s go eat. Aunt Jenny always puts out a fantastic spread.”

***

“Sara, dear, you look beautiful.”

Sara turned to see that an older woman swathed in yards of green silk and wearing an enormous headdress of peacock feathers and imitation gems. Her hair was a patently artificial shade of rich red gold that probably didn’t even exist in nature, and so thick and luxurious it was even less likely that it was real. She was a little past plump in size, but her dress hadn’t caught up with her outward expansion, and she appeared to be squeezed into it like a sardine in a tin. Sara was also pretty sure she had an engorgement charm on her breasts. “Lady Alexandra, how nice to see you.” She accepted an uncomfortable hug. “I love the peacock plumes. Very elegant.”

“Why, thank you dear, I made this myself. The height of fashion in Francia. How have you been?”

“Good, traveling is always an adventure.”

“You do look a little thin, dear.”

Sara looked down at herself. “Really? I’ve been trying not to get too skinny.” It was a constant problem for her. Some women constantly worried about gaining weight. Sara was the opposite. “I got this dress fitted at the beginning of the season, so I haven’t lost that much.” She smiled when the older woman patted her arm.

“Nothing to worry about, dear, but it will be hard to find a husband if you’re just skin and bones. Men need something to hold onto.”

Sara laughed. This was a long-standing argument. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

They watched the dancers swirl through the room for a moment, sipping champagne. “I must say, your brother’s boyfriend is extremely handsome. He reminds me a bit of my sweet Daniil.”

Sara squeezed her hand. Daniil was the grandson she’d lost to the fever that had claimed Queen Vasilysa. “Emil is a sweetheart. But I don’t know if he’s Mickey’s boyfriend.”

Lady Alexandra looked at her. “No, that’s how he introduced me. ‘This is my boyfriend, Emil.’ They make a very attractive pair.”

“Oh, I didn’t realize it had progressed that far,” Sara answered weakly. “They’ve been together less than a day.”

“Have they known each other long?”

Sara sipped her champagne. “We all met last winter, and Emil started traveling with us at the beginning of March. I’m pretty sure Emil’s been after Mickey the entire time. I didn’t realize until yesterday that Mickey was anything more than just attracted to him.”

“There’s love between those two, mark my words.”

Sara smiled at the look of grandmotherly fondness. “I certainly hope so. I really think Mickey is in love with him.”

“Well, look there. That kiss is love. You can just tell.”

She looked over to the edge of the dancefloor where couples were bowing and curtseying. Sure enough, Mickey and Emil were kissing chastely. “I had no idea they’d progressed to the kissing in public stage. Okay.”

“They make a very handsome couple. Your mother will be so happy.”

Sara tore her eyes away from where Mickey and Emil were smiling at each other. “Oh, right. Yah, she will. She’s always worried about Mickey.”

“Ah, young love. They remind me of my dearest husband, gods hold and protect him. He was so handsome…”

Sara braced herself for more reminiscences. _Please, Emil, love him._

***

“Dancing with you is nice,” Mickey murmured as they wedged themselves between the other couples, “but I’m starting to feel claustrophobic.”

Emil laughed. “It’s also uncomfortably warm. Let’s go to the garden after this dance.”

“Yes, gods, yes. We can find somewhere to sit.”

“And breathe.” 

They tried to move in the direction of the garden doors and were moderately successful. The cool night air was a relief after the heat of the ballroom. They strolled across the lawn and through the trees until they found a bench next to a little fountain and sank down onto the padded seat with twin groans.

“I’m sure all of the more private spots are taken.” Mickey stretched his arms over his head before resting one along the back of the bench. “I’m cool with not having sex out here if you are,” he joked.

Emil laughed softly. “No, sitting and not sweating is as much pleasure as I can handle right now.” He leaned forward and kissed Mickey softly. “I can’t resist kissing you, though.”

“Please don’t.” 

Emil pulled back, hurt. “Oh, okay.” He knew Mickey would hear it in his voice.

Mickey was confused for a minute. “No, I meant don’t resist, not don’t kiss me.”

“Oh, thank the gods,” Emil breathed and promptly framed Mickey’s face with his hands and kissed him.

It was a long, slow, deep kiss that erased any thoughts Mickey might have had floating around in his head. He moved his arm off the back of the bench to slide his hand into Emil’s hair and he softly stroked his thumb on his neck. Emil’s hands slowly slid from his jaw down his neck and onto his chest. Mickey pulled back just a little and opened his eyes. “The way you kiss me,” he murmured before moving enough to put an arm around his neck and the other around his waist before bringing their lips back together. No one had ever made him feel like this. So loved, so adored, so treasured. 

Emil broke the kiss this time, resting his forehead against Mickey’s and breathing. “The way _you_ kiss _me.”_ Gods, every touch told him how much Mickey loved him. “No one has ever kissed me like you.”

“It’s because you’re everything to me,” Mickey whispered. “I never want to stop kissing you.”

“We have that in common,” Emil whispered. The words ‘I love you’ were on the tip of his tongue. 

And then a group of giggling young women ran past, their silk skirts floating out behind them. They both jumped back, even though they had nothing to be ashamed of. Mickey rolled his eyes as Emil laughed. Before they could open their mouths to talk, more girls ran by. 

“Where are they all going?”

Mickey shook his head. “I have no idea. But teenage girls have never made much sense to me.”

Emil laughed. “Girls have always been a mystery to me. I’ve had lovers tell me that being gay had made it easier to make friends with girls and they learned more about them. The only person who knew I was gay when I was at home was my boyfriend. My family didn’t find out until the night we broke up and my mother demanded to know why I was crying.”

“And then your brothers went to beat him up.”

“Yes, but they just threatened him with bodily harm and telling his parents. But I think Jan told him he could break every bone in his body, heal him, and do it again.”

“Ouch,” Mickey laughed. “That’s got to be the scariest threat I’ve ever heard.”

“I know, my mother was horrified.”

“Would you like me to beat him up too?” Mickey teased.

Laughing, Emil shoved him playfully. “No. Just kiss me in front of him. He’s married to a girl who made fun of him our entire childhood because their parents wanted to combine their fishing fleets.”

Mickey’s eyes were wide. “Oh gods, that’s terrible. I almost feel bad for him.”

Emil shook his head. “I do too. His life went downhill after he broke up with me.”

Mickey took Emil’s hand and kissed it. “But now you get to be mine. My life has only gotten better since we met.”

“So has mine.” 

Noise from the house drew their attention. “I bet it’s time for fireworks.” Mickey stood and tugged Emil’s hand. “Let’s make sure we get a good spot to watch.”

They wandered back to the terrace, arms casually around each other. Other people were gathering excitedly. Sara was positioned across the lawn. Emil spotted Prince Victor with Yuuri, and Prince Christophe with his tall boyfriend. Many of the couples were romantically holding each other. _Fireworks must be very romantic here._

Emil had never seen fireworks before he started traveling, and they were still just as magical now as the first time he saw them. Sara was brilliant, and it was the essence of magic. He stole at glance at Mickey, and saw that he was staring happily, face open and carefree like a child. _Dearest gods, I love him._

During the finale they kissed, and Emil felt his heart swell with the magic of it. _I’m going to marry this man someday._

***  
The suite was lit by the tiny glowing lights again when the three of them came in. Sara had professed herself too tired to do a damned thing, and even though Victor and Chris had invited them to go out drinking, Mickey and Emil had both decided they’d rather spend time together. _Alone_ together.

Sara looked at them gazing at each other. She cursed being a mage instead of mind reader, she just needed to be sure Emil really loved Mickey. _I just have to trust him. I have to trust him, and be there to pick up the pieces if it doesn’t work out._ “You’re disgusting. I’m going to bed.”

 _“You’re_ disgusting,” Mickey quipped. “Go to bed.” He watched her flounce off to her bedroom before turning to Emil. “Your room or mine?”

“The oil is in my room.”

“Decision made.” Mickey tugged Emil to the door. 

One of the small crystals was glowing a soft silver light from Emil’s nightstand. Mickey moved to him, and put his hands on his chest, feeling the warmth of his body through the thin green silk. He just stood there for a moment before looking up and meeting Emil’s eyes. He knew, without a shadow of a doubt, that he would spend the rest of his life with this man. “Emil,” he whispered.

Emil lowered his head and whispered Mickey’s name against his lips before kissing him softly. He had his hands on his hips, and they kissed for a few moments, just gentle, loving kisses that said ‘I love you’ without words.

Emil pulled back. “I want to make love to you,” he whispered.

“Yes,” Mickey whispered back. He slid his hands down Emil’s chest to unfasten his belt. “I want you to.”

They undressed each other carefully. They only had one first time, and Emil wanted it to be perfect. “You’re so beautiful,” he murmured, voice soft. “Every time I look at you, I have to catch my breath.”

Mickey smiled, touched. “Oh, Emil,” he whispered, cupping his cheek. 

They pulled down the blankets, and Mickey settled in the middle of the bed, unselfconscious. As Emil climbed over him, looking at him like he was the most precious thing in his world, he had to say the words before they got stuck. “I love you,” he whispered.

Emil paused, mouth open, knowing his face was showing more emotions than he’d ever felt in his life. “I love you too.”

Mickey looked up at the intensity of Emil’s expression, and smiled. “Kiss me.” He lifted his arms to go around his neck. 

He slid his arms under Mickey’s shoulders, coming to rest on top of him before sealing his mouth over Mickey’s. Emil felt Mickey spread his legs to let him lie between them, and one of Mickey’s legs going around his hips. Suddenly the kiss was all tongue and heat and they Emil was moving against him desperately. He broke the kiss with a gasp. “Mickey,” he gasped out, panting for a few moments, before kissing him more gently. “Let me take care of you.”

Nodding, Mickey ran his hands over his shoulders. “I’d like that.”

“If I do anything you don’t like, stop me.” Emil moved carefully to his side of the bed and grabbed the bottle of oil. 

“I need to see your face, I need you to kiss me,” Mickey whispered.

Emil nodded. “Of course. We can stop if you want to, any time. I won’t be upset.”

“Thank you,” Mickey answered, cupping his cheek. “It’s been a really long time.” Mickey couldn’t lie to himself about being nervous. “I hope the oil doesn’t smell like vanilla or something.”

“Oh, gods, no. You can’t have sex with food-scented oil.” He pulled the stopper out. “Just smells a little like roses.” He drizzled some on his fingers, rubbing them against his thumb. “It’s nice.” He kissed Mickey. 

He took Emil’s hand and moved it down his body. “Please.”

Emil started by stroking Mickey’s hard cock with his slick hand a few times, enjoying the moan he got in response. He took a moment to focus on his balls since he knew Mickey liked it so much before gently rubbing is entrance. He swallowed his gasp with a kiss. He just moved his finger with gentle pressure for a few moments, dotting light kisses over Mickey’s flushed face. “Okay?”

Mickey nodded, breathless. “Yes, I love that. I love being fingered, please, I need it.”

“Tell me if it’s too much.” Emil added more oil to his fingers before pressing gently inside. He felt Mickey tense and kissed his cheek. “Do you want me to stop?”

He laughed softly, understanding. “No, I tensed up because I know it’s going to feel good. Anticipation.”

“Oh good,” Emil answered, and kissed him softly while gently pressing his finger in. He grinned when Mickey moaned into the kiss. He just moved the one finger for a few moments, before Mickey made an impatient noise.

“More, please,” he gasped out. “Before you ask, I’m sure.”

Emil chuckled. “Alright.” Adding more oil, he carefully pushed two fingers into Mickey’s body, and he arched with a deep “Yes”. 

“That’s what I need,” Mickey whimpered out. “Please.”

Emil worked him open with two fingers, listening to Mickey gasp and beg between kisses. He found his sweet spot and rubbed gently, drawing the most delicious keening moan from Mickey’s throat. “Good?”

Mickey panted for a moment. “Gods, I’m going to come before you’re even in me. I need it, gods, Emil.” He whined when Emil pulled his fingers out but groaned in pleasure when he returned with three. “Oh, _yes,”_ he moaned. He’d forgotten just how good this could feel. It helped so much that he loved Emil, trusted him, and knew he was loved so deeply in return. “Oh gods, Emil, please fuck me, I need it, gods, _please.”_

“Shh, I’ve got you,” he whispered against Mickey’s sweaty temple. 

“Take your fingers out slowly, I don’t like feeling empty,” he whispered.

He was very gentle and slow. “Alright.” He poured more oil onto his hand and slicked himself. “I’ll go as slow as you need.”

Mickey nodded. “Thank you,” he whispered. He reached for a kiss. 

Emil kissed him deeply for a moment before pulling back to get into position. “Still okay?”

_“Please.”_

He was careful, as careful as he could be, pushing into Mickey’s body. He heard him gasp and felt him tense, so he paused for a moment. “Relax,” he whispered.

Mickey took a breath, he wanted Emil inside of him. He’d known it would probably hurt a little, but it still startled him. As he got used to the feeling, his body relaxed, and he felt Emil pushing inside. _It must be taking a superhuman amount of effort to go that slow,_ Mickey thought. “It’s okay, I’m okay.”

As he pushed into the hilt, Emil lowered himself onto Mickey and kissed him. Holding still was torture. “Can I move?”

“Yes, fuck, yes.”

Emil started slowly, gently, watching Mickey’s face for any signs that he wasn’t enjoying it. “What is it?”

“Can you,” Mickey panted. “It’s good for me if you put a pillow under me.”

“Sure.” Emil pulled out very slowly and grabbed on of the numerous pillows. “Lift your hips.”

Mickey lifted up and adjusted, waiting for Emil to push back into him. It changed the angle and kept his back from tensing. “That’s so good.” He groaned. “I’m okay, you can move, _amore.”_

“I love you,” Emil whispered as he started moving in him. “I love you so much.” It felt so good to say it.

“Emil.” Mickey used his elbows to lift up enough to kiss him. “I love you too, gods, I love you.” He flopped back down as Emil began to thrust harder and faster. “Oh, like that.” Mickey wrapped his arms around his shoulders and pulled him down to for a kiss this time. 

Emil didn’t want this to be over too soon, so he was moving more slowly than his body was demanding. It felt amazing to be inside of Mickey and look down and see all his love and trust on his face. “They way you’re looking at me…” He couldn’t even finish the sentence. He didn’t have words in the common tongue for everything he was feeling. 

Mickey could only pant in response. “Harder,” he gasped out. 

Groaning, Emil increased the pace, thrusting harder into Mickey’s willing body. He tried changing his angle and got a breathless shout. “There?”

He lifted his leg up, and Emil understood. He lifted his arm so that Mickey could hook his knee over his arm. “There,” he panted. “Yes, harder, please, oh gods--”

Harder, Emil could do. He wanted it to last, but he was so close. He wrapped his hand around Mickey’s cock and savored his strangled scream. He was babbling in Italian again, and gods, he loved that. He wanted Mickey to come first so he could watch his face. “Come for me, _láska,_ come for me.”

“Emil,” Mickey gasped. He was so close. “Harder,” he begged.

“Mickey,” Emil groaned, thrusting harder. “Gods, I’m so close.”

“There, yes, _oh--”_

Watching Mickey orgasm was so erotic that Emil knew he’d be able to get off just thinking about it years from now. “Mickey,” he choked out before he followed him over the edge with a hoarse shout.

Mickey floated in bliss for a few moments before he felt Emil sink down on top of him. Sometimes he liked it, sometimes he didn’t. Tonight, it was perfect. He draped his arms over his back, still feeling tingles all over his skin. “Love you.” He never wanted to stop saying it.

Emil could only pant for a minute, still feeling like it was flying. “Love you too.” Mickey’s arms around him felt like they were the only things anchoring him to the ground. Eventually he asked, “Am I squishing you?”

Chuckling, Mickey rubbed his back. “No, but we’re going to be glued to each other if we don’t clean up.”

“This is true.” Emil lifted himself on his arms but stopped to give Mickey a kiss. “I’ll go get a washcloth. You don’t have to get up.”

“Thank you, _amore,_ ” Mickey answered, touched. “You’re sweet.”

Emil pulled out slowly, remembering what Mickey said about feeling empty. He padded to the bathroom and returned with a warm soapy cloth to clean them both up. He tossed it toward the bathroom door and crawled into bed to be greeted by a smiling, sleepy Mickey who just had to be kissed.

“Mm, thank you.” Mickey cuddled into Emil’s chest and sighed happily when his arms went around him. “Will the light bother you?”

“Huh uh,” Emil murmured, kissing Mickey’s hair. “I love you.”

Mickey kissed the warm skin under his lips. “I love you too.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm going to take a break from this story for a while to go back to the main fic. I'll wrap up Mickey and Emil after I finish The Misleading Nature of Unicorns. I have plenty of other side stories brewing for this universe!

**Author's Note:**

> Mickey and Emil are pretty cute. More of them might pop up later, you never know. There are so many more snippets of gayness in my imagination.


End file.
